na 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 


MABEL  H.   GILLIS 


AUTHOR    OF 
A  Little  Girl  in  Old  New  York 

Hannah  Ann.     A  Sequel  to  "  A  Little  Girl  in 
Old  New  York  " 

A  Little  Girl  in  Old  Boston 

Sherburne  House 

Lyndell  Sherburne 

The  Sherburne  Cousins 

A  Sherburne  Romance 

The  Mistress  of  Sherburne 

The  Children  at  Sherburne  House 

Sherburne  Girls 


A  LITTLE  GIRL 


IN 


OLD    NEW    YORK 


BY 

AMANDA  M.  DOUGLAS 

AUTHOR  OF  "LOST  IN  A  GREAT    CITY,"    "  SHERBURNK  BOOKS,'' 
"IN  WILD  ROSE  TIME,"  ETC. 


NEW   YORK 

DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY 
1896 


COPYRIGHT,  1896,  BY 
DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY 

All  right*  rtstnvd. 


PS 


Co 

DOROTHY  MOORE, 

A   LITTLE   GIRL   OF    TO-DAY, 

FROM 

HER  MAMMA'S  FRIEND, 

AMANDA  M.  DOUGLAS. 
NEWARK,  1896. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER                                                                                PAGE 
I.  THE  LITTLE  GIRL 5 

II.  GOOD-BY  TO  AN  OLD  HOME 21 

III.  FINE  FEATHERS  FOR  THE  LITTLE  WREN,  .        .     39 

IV.  A  LOOK  AT  OLD  NEW  YORK,   .        .        .        .56 
V.  GIRLS  AND  GIRLS .71 

VI.  Miss  DOLLY  BEEKMAN, 91 

VII.  Miss  Lois  AND  SIXTY  YEARS  AGO,   .        .        .  109 
VIII.  THE  END  OF  THE  WORLD,         ....  129 

IX.  A  WONDERFUL  SCHEME, 149 

X.  A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS 169 

XI.  THE  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  POLITICS,          .        .        .  189 
XII.  A  REAL  PARTY,         .        ,       .        .        .        .  212 

XIII.  NEW  RELATIONS,        .        »        .        .        .        .  231 

XIV.  JOHN  ROBERT  CHARLES 251 

XV.  A  PLAY  IN  THE  BACKYARD 271 

XVI.  DAISY  JASPER,    . 291 

XVII.  SOME  OF  THE  OLD  LANDMARKS,        .        .        .  311 

XVIII.  SUNDRY  DISSIPATIONS, 334 

XIX.  WHEN  CHRISTMAS  BELLS  WERE  RINGING.  .  352 


A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK. 


Cbapter  One. 

THE   LITTLE  GIRL. 

"  How  would  you  like  to  go  to  New  York  to 
live,  little  girl?" 

The  little  girl  looked  up  into  her  father's  face 
to  see  if  he  was  "making  fun."  He  did  some 
times.  He  was  beginning  to  go  down  the  hill  of 
middle  life,  a  rather  stout  personage  with  a  fair, 
florid  complexion,  brown  hair,  rough  and  curly, 
and  a  border  of  beard  shaved  well  away  from  his 
mouth.  Both  beard  and  hair  were  getting  threads 
of  white  in  them.  His  jolly  blue  eyes  were  mostly 
in  a  twinkle,  and  his  good-natured  mouth  looked 
as  if  he  might  be  laughing  at  you. 

She  studied  him  intently.  Three  months  before 
she  had  been  taken  to  the  city  on  a  visit,  and  it 
was  a  great  event.  I  suspect  that  her  mother  did 
not  like  being  separated  from  her  a  whole  fort 
night.  She  was  such  a  nice,  quiet,  well-behaved 
little  girl.  Children  were  trained  in  those  days. 

5 


6        A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Some  of  them  actually  took  pride  in  being  as  nice 
as  possible  and  obeying  the  first  time  they  were 
spoken  to,  without  even  asking  "  Why?" 

The  little  girl  sat  on  a  stool  sewing  patchwork. 
This  particular  pattern  was  called  a  lemon  star 
and  had  eight  diamond-shaped  pieces  of  two 
colors,  filled  in  with  white  around  the  edge,  mak 
ing  a  square.  Her  grandmother  was  coming  to 
"join"  it  for  her,  and  have  it  quilted  before  she 
was  eight  years  old.  She  was  doing  her  part  with 
a  good  will. 

"To  New  York?"  she  repeated  very  deliber 
ately.  Then  she  went  on  with  her  sewing  for  she 
had  no  time  to  waste. 

"Yes,  Pussy."  Her  father  pinched  her  cheek 
softly.  The  little  girl  was  the  most  precious  thmg 
in  the  world,  he  sometimes  thought. 

"What,  all  of  us?"  You  see  she  had  a  mind  to 
understand  the  case  before  she  committed  herself. 

"Oh,  certainly!  I  don't  know  as  we  could 
leave  any  one  behind. " 

Then  he  lifted  her  up  in  his  lap  and  hugged 
her,  scrubbing  her  face  with  his  beard  which  gave 
her  pink  cheeks.  They  both  laughed.  She  held 
her  sewing  out  with  one  hand  so  that  the  needle 
should  not  scratch  either  of  them. 

"I  can't — hardly — tell;  and  her  face  was  se 
rious. 

I  want  to  explain  to  you  that  the  little  girl  had 


THE  LITTLE  GIRL  7 

not  begun  with  grammar.  You  may  find  her 
making  mistakes  occasionally.  Perhaps  the  chil 
dren  of  to-day  do  the  same  thing. 

"Would  we  move  everything?"  raising  her 
wondering  eyes. 

"  Well,  no — not  quite ;"  and  the  humorous  light 
crossed  his  face.  "We  couldn't  take  the  orchard 
nor  the  meadows  nor  the  woods  nor  the  creek. " 
(I  think  he  said  "medders"  and  "crick,"  and  his 
"nor"  sounded  as  if  he  put  an  e  in  it.)  "There 
are  a  good  many  things  we  should  have  to  leave 
behind." 

He  sighed  and  the  little  girl  sighed  too.  She 
drew  up  her  patchwork  and  began  to  sew. 

"It  is  a  great  deal  of  trouble  to  move ;"  she 
began  gravely.  "  I  must  consider. " 

She  had  caught  that  from  Great-Aunt  Van 
Kortlandt,  who  never  committed  herself  to  any 
thing  without  considering. 

Her  father  kissed  her  cheek.  If  it  had  been  a 
little  fatter  she  would  have  had  a  dimple.  Or 
perhaps  he  put  so  many  kisses  in  the  little  dent 
it  was  always  filled  up  with  love. 

I  don't  know  whether  you  would  have  thought 
this  little  girl  of  past  seven  pretty  or  not.  She 
was  small  and  fair  with  a  rather  prim  face  and 
thick  light  hair,  parted  in  the  middle,  combed 
back  of  her  ears,  and  cut  square  across  the  neck, 
but  the  ends  had  some  curly  twists. 


8        A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Certainly  children  are  dressed  prettier  nowa 
days.  The  little  girl's  frock  was  green  with  tiny 
rivulets  of  yellow  meandering-  over  it.  They 
made  islands  and  peninsulas  and  isthmuses  of 
green  that  were  odd  and  freaky.  Mrs.  Underbill 
had  bought  it  to  join  her  sashwork  quilt,  and 
there  was  enough  left  to  make  the  little  girl  a 
frock.  It  had  the  merit  of  washing  well,  but  it 
gave  her  a  rather  ghostly  look.  It  had  a  short,  full 
waist  with  shoulder  straps,  making  a  square 
neck,  a  wide  belt,  and  a  skirt  that  came  down  to 
the  tops  of  her  shoes,  which  were  like  Oxford 
ties.  Though  she  was  not  rosy  she  had  never 
been  really  ill,  and  only  stayed  at  home  two  weeks 
the  previous  winter  at  the  worst  of  the  whooping- 
cough,  which  nobody  seemed  to  mind  then. 
But  it  must  have  made  a  sort  of  Wagner  chorus 
if  many  children  coughed  at  once. 

"  I  had  a  very  nice  time  in  New  York,"  she  be 
gan,  with  grave  approbation,  when  she  had  consid 
ered  for  some  seconds.  "  The  museum  was  splen 
did!  And  the  houses  seem  sociable-like.  Don't 
you  suppose  they  nod  to  each  other  when  the  folks 
are  asleep?  And  the  stores  are  so — so — "  she 
tried  to  think  of  the  longest  word  she  knew — "  so 
magnificent?  Aunt  Patience  and  Aunt  Nancy 
were  so  nice.  And  the  cat  was  perfectly  white 
and  sat  in  Aunt  Nancy's  lap.  There  was  a  little 
girl  next  door  who  had  a  big  doll  and  a  cradle  and 


THE  LITTLE  GIRL  9 

a  set  of  dishes,  and  we  had  tea  together.  I'd  like 
to  have  some  dishes.  Do  you  think  Uncle  Paid  is 
coming  back?"  she  asked  suddenly. 

"  I  believe  he  is,  this  time.  And  if  we  get  very 
homesick  we  shall  have  to  come  back  and  live  with 
him." 

"  I  shouldn't  be  homesick  with  you  and  mother 
and  che  boys,  and  Steve  and  Joe.  It  would  be 
nice  to  have  Dobbin  and  Prince,  but  the  stores 
are  on  the  corners  instead  of  going  to  the  village, 
and  its  nice  and  queer  to  ride  in  the  omnibuses 
and  hand  your  money  up  through  the  roof.  The 
drivers  must  have  an  awful  sight  when  night 
comes." 

They  even  said  "  awful"  in  those  far-back  days, 
they  truly  did. 

Father  Underhill  laughed  and  squeezed  the 
little  girl  with  a  fondness  she  understood  very 
well. 

Just  then  a  voice  called  rather  sharply:  "'Mil- 
yer!  'Milyer!"  and  he  sat  the  little  girl  down  on 
the  stool  as  carefully  as  if  she  had  been  china. 
He  put  another  kiss  in  the  little  dent,  and  she 
gave  him  a  tender  smile. 

His  whole  name  was  Vermilye  Fowler  Under 
hill.  Everbody  called  him  Familiar,  but  Mrs. 
Underhill  shortened  it  to  'Milyer. 

The  little  girl's  name  was  Hannah  Ann.  The 
school  children  called  her  Han  and  Hanny.  One 


io      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

grandmother  always  said  Hanneran.  But  being 
the  youngest,  the  most  natural  name  seemed  "  lit 
tle  girl." 

There  were  three  sons  to  lead  off,  Stephen 
Decatur,  Joseph  Bennett,  and  John  Fowler. 
Then  a  daughter  was  most  welcome,  and  she  was 
called  Margaret  Hunter  after  her  mother,  and 
shortened  to  Peggy.  They  used  nicknames  and 
diminutives,  if  they  were  not  as  fanciful  as  ours. 

After  Margaret  came  George  Horton,  Benny 
Franklin,  and  James  Odell.  The  poor  mother 
gave  a  sigh  of  disappointment,  she  had  so  longed 
for  another  girl.  When  Jim  had  outgrown  baby 
hood  altogether  and  was  nearly  five,  the  desired 
blessing  came. 

There  was  a  great  discussion  about  her  name. 
Grandmother  Hunter  had  married  a  second  time 
and  was  a  Van  Kortlandt  now.  She  had  named 
her  only  daughter  after  her  mother  and  was  a  bit 
offended  that  Margaret  was  not  named  for  her. 
Now  she  came  with  a  fairy  god-mother's  insist 
ence,  and  declared  she  would  put  a  hundred  dol 
lars  in  the  bank  at  once,  and  remember  the  child 
in  her  will,  besides  giving  her  the  old  Huntef 
tablespoons  made  in  London  more  than  a  hundred 
years  ago,  with  the  crown  mark  on  them. 

Grandmother  Underbill's  name  was  Ann.  She 
lived  with  her  eldest  son  at  White  Plains,  who  had 
fallen  heir  to  his  grandfather's  farm.  When  a 


THE  LITTLE  GIRL  n 

widow  she  had  gone  back  to  her  girlhood's  home 
and  taken  care  of  her  old  father.  David,  her 
eldest  son,  had  come  to  work  the  farm.  She  had 
a  "  wing"  in  the  house,  but  she  never  lived  by  her 
self,  for  her  son  and  the  grandchildren  adored  her. 

Now  she  said  to  the  baby's  mother:  "You  put 
in  Ann  for  a  middle  name  and  I'll  give  her  a  hun 
dred  dollars  as  well,  and  my  string  of  gold  beads 
that  came  from  Paris.  And  I'll  make  her  a  nice 
down  bed  and  pillows. " 

So  Hannah  Ann  it  was,  and  the  little  girl  began 
life  with  a  bank  account.  She  was  a  grave, 
sweet,  dainty  sort  of  baby,  with  wondering  eyes  of 
bluish  violet,  bordering  on  gray.  I  think  myself 
that  she  should  have  had  a  prettier  name,  but 
people  were  not  throwing  away  even  two-hundred- 
dollar  chances  in  those  days.  Neither  had  they 
come  to  Ediths  and  Ethels  and  Mays  and  Gladys. 
And  they  barbarously  shortened  some  of  their 
most  beautiful  names  to  Peggy  and  Betsey  and 
Polly  and  Sukey. 

Left  to  herself  the  little  girl  went  on  with  her 
patchwork,  and  recalled  her  visit  to  the  city. 
There  were  so  many  aunts  and  cousins  and  so 
many  wonderful  things  to  see.  She  must  find  out 
whether  there  would  be  any  snow  and  sleighrides 
in  the  winter.  As  for  fruit  and  vegetables  and 
eggs  and  poultry  the  farmers  were  always  sending 
them  in  to  the  city,  she  knew  that. 


12      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

The  prospect  of  a  removal  from  Yonkers, 
where  they  had  always  lived,  was  not  so  new  to 
the  elders.  Stephen  was  in  New  York  nearly  all 
the  week  now.  Joseph  was  studying  for  a  doctor. 
John  was  not  in  love  with  farming  and  had  a  great 
taste  for  mechanical  pursuits.  Margaret,  a  tall, 
fair  girl  of  seventeen,  was  begging  to  be  sent 
away  to  school  another  year,  and  learn  some  of 
the  higher  branches  people  were  talking  about. 
Joe  thought  she  should.  Her  father  was  quite 
sure  she  knew  enough,  for  she  could  do  all  the 
puzzling  sums  in  "  Perkins*  Higher  Arithmetic, " 
and  you  couldn't  trip  her  up  on  the  hardest  words. 
She  went  to  a  very  good  school  in  the  village. 
And  the  village  was  quite  primitive  in  those  days. 
The  steamboat-landing  was  the  great  focus  of  in 
terest.  It  was  all  rock  and  hills  and  a  few  factor 
ies  were  plodding  along.  The  farm  was  two 
good  miles  away. 

The  young  people  thought  it  a  most  auspicious 
turn  in  affairs  that  Uncle  Faid  was  coming  back. 
His  real  name  was  Frederic.  Since  David  had 
his  grandfather's  farm,  this  had  been  divided  be 
tween  the  two  remaining  sons,  but  Frederic  had 
been  seized  with  the  Western  fever  and  gone  out 
to  what  was  called  the  new  countries.  His  sons 
had  married  and  settled  in  different  places,  one 
daughter  had  married  and  come  East  to  live,  and 
Uncle  Faid  was  homesick  for  the  land  of  his  youth. 


THE  LITTLE  GIRL  13 

Mrs.  Underfill!  had  declared  at  first,  "  She 
wouldn't  stir  a  step.  'Milyer  could  buy  out  his 
brother's  part  in  the  house" — the  two  hundred 
acres  had  been  already  divided.  But  people  had 
begun  to  complain  even  then  that  farming  did 
not  pay,  and  John  wanted  to  learn  a  trade.  And 
if  three  or  four  went  out  of  the  old  home  nest ! 
Steve  wanted  his  father  in  New  York.  If  they 
were  not  satisfied  they  could  come  back  and  build 
a  new  house.  And  presently  she  began  to  think 
it  best  even  if  she  didn't  like  it. 

The  little  girl  finished  her  block  of  patchwork, 
pinched  and  patted  down  the  seams,  and  laid  it 
on  the  pile.  Her  "  stent"  for  that  day  was  done. 
There  were  nine  more  blocks  to  make. 

There  was  a  wide  half  closet  beside  the  chimney 
and  she  had  the  top  shelf  for  her  own.  It  was  so 
neat  that  it  looked  like  a  doll's  house.  Her  only 
doll  had  been  a  "  rag  baby,"  and  Gip,  the  dog,  had 
demolished  that. 

"Never  mind,"  said  her  mother,  "you  are  too 
big  to  play  with  dolls. "  But  the  little  girl  in  New 
York  was  almost  a  year  older,  and  she  had  a 
large  wax  doll  with  "  truly"  clothes  that  could  be 
taken  off  and  washed.  If  she  went  to  the  city 
she  might  have  one. 

She  piled  up  her  patchwork  with  a  sense  of  ex 
ultation.  She  was  extremely  neat.  There  was 
a  tiny, hair-covered  trunk  grandmother  Van  Kort- 


14      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

land  had  given  her  full  of  pretty  chintz  and  calico 
pieces.  She  kept  her  baby  shoes  of  blue  kid  that 
were  outgrown  before  they  were  half  worn  out, 
so  choice  had  her  mother  been  of  them.  There 
were  some  gift-books  and  mementos  and  a  beau 
tiful  Shaker  basket  Stephen  had  given  her  at 
Christmas.  It  was  round,  so  she  imagined  you 
put  something  in  it  and  shook  it,  for  she  had  no 
idea  the  Shakers  were  a  community  and  made 
dainty  articles  for  sale,  even  if  they  discarded  all 
personal  vanities. 

She  went  through  to  the  next  room,  which  was 
the  kitchen  in  winter  and  dining-room  in  summer. 
She  took  down  her  blue-and-white  gingham  sun- 
bonnet,  and  skipped  along  a  narrow  path  through 
the  grass  to  the  summer  kitchen.  This  was  a 
short  distance  from  the  house,  a  big,  square  room 
with  a  door  at  each  side,  and  smoky  rafters  over 
head.  The  brick  and  stone  chimney  was  built  in 
side,  very  wide  at  the  bottom  and  tapering  up  to 
the  peak  in  the  roof.  There  was  a  great  black 
crane  across  it,  with  two  sets  of  trammels  sus 
pended  from  it,  on  which  you  could  hang  two  ket 
tles  at  the  same  time.  If  you  have  never  seen 
one,  get  Longfellow's  beautiful  illustrated  poem, 
"The  Hanging  of  the  Crane."  A  great  many 
old  country  houses  had  them,  and  they  were  con 
sidered  extremely  handy. 

The  presiding  genius  of  the  kitchen  was  a  fat 


THE  LITTLE  GIRL  15 

old  black  woman,  so  old  that  her  hair  was  all  griz 
zled.  When  she  braided  it  up  in  little  tails  on 
Saturday  afternoon  Hannah  Ann  watched  with  a 
kind  of  fascination.  She  always  wore  a  plaid 
Madras  turban  with  a  bow  tied  in  front.  She  had 
been  grandmother  Underhill's  slave  woman.  I 
suppose  very  few  of  you  know  there  were  slaves 
in  New  York  State  in  the  early  part  of  the  cen 
tury.  Aunt  Mary  had  sons  married,  and  grand 
children  doing  well.  They  begged  her  now  and 
then  to  give  up  work,  but  she  clung  to  her  old 
home. 

"Aunt  Mary,"  inquired  the  little  girl,  "is  the 
chicken  feed  mixed?" 

"  Laws,  yaas,  honey,  lem  me  scoop  it  in  de  pail. 
You's  got  such  little  claws  o'  han's.  Don't  seem 
's  if  dey  ever  grow  big  ernough  fer  nothin'." 

She  ladled  out  the  scalded  meal,  mixed  with 
bits  of  broken  bread.  The  little  girl  laughed  and 
nodded  and  crossed  the  small  bridge  that  spanned 
the  creek.  The  spring,  or  rather  the  series  of 
them,  ran  around  the  house  and  down  past  the 
kitchen,  then  widened  out  into  quite  a  pond  where 
the  ducks  and  geese  disported  themselves,  and  the 
cows  always  paused  to  drink  on  their  way  to  the 
barn. 

She  went  down  to  the  barn.  On  the  carriage- 
house  side  in  the  sun  were  some  chicken-coops. 
Pretty  little  chicks  whose  mothers  had  "stolen 


16      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

their  nests ;"  thirty-two  of  various  sizes,  and  they 
belonged  to  the  little  girl.  She  rarely  forgot 
them. 

There  were  plenty  of  chores  for  Ben  and  Jim. 
They  drove  the  cows  to  pasture,  chopped  wood, 
picked  apples,  and  dug  potatoes.  You  wondered 
how  they  found  any  time  for  play  or  study. 

Jim  "tagged"  the  little  girl  as  she  came  back 
with  her  pail.  She  could  run  like  a  deer. 

"  Here  you,  Jim!"  called  Aunt  Mary,  "you  jes' 
take  dis  pail  an'  git  some  of  dem  big  blackbre'es 
fer  supper  steder  gallopin'  roun'  like  a  wild  pala- 
kin  ob  de  desert!"  and  she  held  out  the  shining 
pail. 

A  "palakin  of  the  desert"  was  Aunt  Mary's 
favorite  simile.  In  vain  had  Margaret  explained 
that  the  pelican  was  a  bird  and  couldn't  gallop. 

"  Laws,  honey,"  the  old  woman  would  reply,  "  I 
aint  hankerin'  arter  any  ob  dis  new  book  larnin'. 
I's  a  heap  too  old  fer  'rithmertic  an'  'stology.  I 
jes'  keeps  to  de  plain  Bible  dat  served  de  chillen 
of  Isrul  in  de  wilderness.  Some  day,  Miss  Peggy, 
when  you's  waded  tru  seas  o'  trubble  an'  come  out 
on  de  good  Lord's  side  an'  made  your  callin'  an' 
'lection  sure,  you'll  know  more  'bout  it  I  done 
reckon. " 

"Come  with  me,  do,  Hanny,"  pleaded  Jim. 
"  You  can  walk  along  the  stone  fence  and  pick  the 
high  ones  and  we'll  fill  the  kittle  in  no  time." 


THE  LITTLE  GIRL  17 

Jim  thought  if  he  had  made  a  spelling-book, 
he  would  have  spelled  the  word  that  way.  Jim 
would  have  been  a  master  hand  at  phonetics. 

The  little  girl  crossed  two  of  her  fingers.  That 
was  a  sign  of  truce  in  the  game. 

"  No  play  till  we  come  back,"  said  Jim. 

The  little  girl  nodded  and  ran  for  her  mitts  of 
strong  muslin  with  the  thumb  and  finger  ends  out. 
The  briars  were  so  apt  to  tear  your  hands. 

They  ran  a  race  down  to  the  blackberry  patch. 
Then  they  sat  on  the  fence  and  ate  berries.  It 
was  really  a  broad,  handsome  wall.  There  were 
so  many  stones  on  the  ground  that  they  built  the 
walls  as  they  "cleared  up."  The  blackberry  lot 
was  a  wild  tangle.  There  were  some  hickory-nut 
trees  in  it  and  a  splendid  branching  black  walnut. 
Sometimes  they  found  a  cluster  of  hazel-nuts. 

The  great  blackberry  canes  grew  six  or  seven 
feet  high.  They  generally  cut  one  path  through 
in  the  early  summer.  The  long  branches  made 
arches  overhead. 

The  little  girl  pinned  a  big  dock-leaf  with  a 
thorn  and  made  a  cup.  When  it  was  full  she 
emptied  it  into  Jim's  pail.  They  were  such  great, 
luscious  berries  that  they  soon  had  it  filled. 
Then  they  sat  down  and  rested.  Everybody 
knows  that  it  is  harder  work  to  pick  berries  than 
to  play  "  tag. " 

Jim  had  a  piece  to  speak  on  Friday  afternoon 


i8      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

at  school.  They  had  these  exercises  once  a 
month,  but  this  was  to  be  a  rather  grand  affair,  as 
then  school  closed  for  a  fortnight.  That  was  all 
the  vacation  they  had. 

Jim  was  rather  proud  of  his  elocutionary  gift. 
He  stood  up  on  a  big  flat  stone  and  declaimed  so 
that  the  little  girl  might  see  if  he  knew  every 
word.  It  was  extremely  patriotic,  beginning : 

"  Columbia !  Columbia !  to  glory  arise, 
The  queen  of  the  world  and  the  child  of  the  skies !" 

"Oh,  you  say  it  just  splendid!"  declared  the  lit 
tle  girl  enthusiastically.  She  never  laughed  and 
teased  him  as  Peggy  did. 

She  was  learning  some  verses  herself,  but  she 
wondered  if  she  would  have  courage  enough  to 
face  the  whole  school.  They  were  in  her  "  Child's 
Reader"  with  the  "Little  Busy  Bee,"  and  "Let 
Dogs  Delight  to  Bark  and  Bite."  She  thought 
them  beautiful : 

"The  rose  had  been  washed,  lately  washed  in  a  shower, 
Which  Mary  to  Anna  conveyed. " 

It  puzzled  her  small  brain  a  good  deal  as  to  why 
the  rose  needed  washing.  But  Peggy  showed 
her  one  day  how  dusty  the  leaves  and  flowers  grew 
in  a  dry  time,  and  she  learned  that  the  whole 
world  was  the  better  for  an  occasional  washing. 
She  asked  Mary  afterward  why  the  clothes  were 
not  put  out  in  a  hard  rain  to  get  them  clean. 


THE  LITTLE  GIRL  19 

"  Laws,  honey,  dey  need  elbow-grease,"  and  the 
old  woman  laughed  heartily. 

"  I  do  wish  my  name  was  Anna,"  she  said,  with 
a  sigh. 

"  Well,  you  just  need  to  put  another  a  to  the 
Ann,"  said  her  brother  confidently. 

"  And  I  don't  like  being  called  Han  and  Hanny." 

"  I'd  a  heap  rather  be  called  Jim  than  James. 
When  pop  calls  me  James  I  think  it's  time  to 
pick  myself  up  mighty  spry,  I  tell  you!"  and 
he  laughed. 

"  It's  different  with  boys,"  she  said,  with  a  soft 
sigh.  "  Girls  ought  to  have  pretty  names,  and 
Hanneran  is  dreadful. " 

"I'd  stand  a  good  deal  for  two  hundred  dollars. 
And  it  doubles  in  fourteen  years.  And  seven 
again!  Why  you'll  have  more  than  five  hundred 
dollars  when  you're  grown  up!" 

She  did  not  know  the  value  of  money  and 
thought  she  would  rather  have  the  pretty  name. 
Yet  she  wasn't  quite  sure  she  would  choose  Anna. 

"You  stay  here  while  I  run  after  the  cows, "  said 
Jim.  "  It  will  save  another  journey. " 

Boys  are  often  economical  of  their  steps,  I  have 
noticed.  Perhaps  this  is  how  they  gain  time  for 
play.  The  little  girl  jumped  down  presently  and 
looked  over  at  the  wild  flowers.  There  were 
clusters  of  yarrow  in  bloom,  spikes  of  yellow  snap 
dragons,  and  a  great  clump  of  thistles  in  their 


20      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

purple  glory.  She  must  tell  her  father  about 
them,  and  have  them  rooted  out.  Would  it  hurt 
them  to  be  killed?  She  felt  suddenly  sorry  for 
them. 

A  squirrel  ran  along  and  winked  at  her  as  he 
gave  his  tail  an  extra  perk.  Nothing  was  ever 
afraid  of  the  little  girl.  But  she  ran  from  the  old 
gobbler,  and  the  big  gander  who  believed  he  had 
pre-empted  the  farm  from  the  Indians.  She 
generally  climbed  over  the  fence  when  she  saw 
old  Red,  who  had  an  ominous  fashion  of  brandish 
ing  her  long  horns.  But  she  didn't  mind  with  Jim 
nor  Benny. 

Jim  came  now  and  took  up  the  pail.  The  cows 
meandered  along.  She  was  rather  glad  Jim  did 
not  see  the  thistle.  She  would  not  tell  him  about 
it  to-night. 


Cbapter 

GOOD-BY    TO   AN    OLD    HOME. 

WHEN  they  reached  the  barn  they  saw  Aunt 
Mary  carrying  a  great  platter  of  corn  up  to  the 
house.  The  little  girl  washed  her  hands  and  her 
face,  that  was  quite  rosy  now,  and  followed.  How 
delicious  it  all  looked!  White  bread,  corncake, 
cold  chicken,  pot-cheese  in  great  creamy  balls,  and 
a  hot  molasses  cake  to  come  on  with  the  berries. 

The  little  girl  always  sat  beside  her  mother,  and 
Margaret  on  the  boys'  side,  to  help  them.  There 
were  four  boys  and  two  hired  men. 

Mrs.  Underbill  was  a  notable  housekeeper. 
She  was  a  little  sharp  in  the  temper,  but  Mr.  Un 
derbill  was  so  easy  that  some  one  had  to  uphold 
the  family  dignity.  She  complained  that  'Milyer 
spoiled  the  children,  but  they  were  good-natured 
and  jolly,  and  quite  up  to  the  average. 

After  supper  the  cows  were  milked,  the  horses 
fed  and  bedded,  Margaret  and  her  mother  packed 
up  the  dishes  in  a  big  basket,  and  the  boys  took 
them  down  to  Mary.  Mrs.  Underbill  looked  after 
the  milk. 

The  little  girl  went  out  on  the  wide  porch  and 

21 


22      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

studied  her  lessons.  There  were  two  long  lines 
in  Webster's  elementary  spelling-book  to  get  by 
heart,  for  the  teacher  "  skipped  about."  The  chil 
dren  went  up  and  down,  and  it  was  rare  fun  some 
times.  The  little  girl  had  been  out  of  the  Baker 
class  a  long  while.  They  call  it  that  because  the 
first  column  began  with  that  easy  word.  She  was 
very  proud  of  having  gone  in  the  larger  class. 
Her  father  gave  her  a  silver  dollar  with  a  hole 
punched  through  it,  and  Steve  brought  her  a  blue 
ribbon  for  it.  She  wore  it  on  state  occasions. 
She  studied  Peter  Parley's  geography  and  knew 
the  verses  beginning: 

"The  world  is  round  and  like  a  ball, 
Seems  swinging  in  the  air. " 

How  it  could  be  puzzled  her.  She  asked  her 
father,  for  she  thought  he  knew  everything.  He 
said  he  believed  it  was,  but  he  could  never  make 
it  seem  so. 

Aunt  Mary  strenuously  denied  it.  "  Sta'ns  to 
reason  de  folks  would  fall  off  w' en  it  went  swirlin' 
round.  De  good  Lord  He  knows  His  business  bet- 
ter'n  dat.  Jes  don't  mind  any  sech  foolin',  honey ! 
Its  clear  agin  de  Bible  dat  speaks  ob  de  sun's 
risin'  an*  settin',  an'  de  Lord  nebber  makes  any 
mistake  'bout  dat  ar  Bible. " 

The  little  girl  studied  her  lesson  over  four  times. 
Then  Jim  came  up  and  they  had  a  game  of  tag. 


GOOD-BY  TO  AN  OLD  HOME  23 

Dave  Andrews  and  Milton  Scott  sat  out  under  the 
old  apple-tree  smoking  their  pipes  and  talking 
politics.  One  was  a  Whig  and  the  other  a  Demo 
crat  who  believed  that  we  had  never  had  a  Pres 
ident  worth  mentioning  since  Andrew  Jackson, 
Old  Hickory  as  he  was  often  called. 

When  her  father  came  round  the  corner  of  the 
house  she  stopped  running  after  Jim  and  held  out 
both  hands  to  him.  Her  cheeks  were  like  wild 
roses  and  her  eyes  shone  with  pleasure.  They 
sat  down  on  the  step,  and  he  put  his  arm  about  her 
and  "  cuddled"  her  up  to  his  side.  She  told  him 
she  had  gone  up  three  in  saying  seven  times  in  the 
multiplication  table,  and  four  in  spelling  "te- 
trarch. "  Then  when  Charley  Banks  was  reading 
he  said  "  condig-en"  and  the  class  laughed.  She 
also  told  him  she  had  been  studying  about  Rhode 
Island  and  Roger  Williams,  and  all  the  bays  and 
inlets  and  islands.  She  made  believe  comb  his 
hair  with  her  slim  little  fingers  and  once  in  a  while 
he  opened  his  lips  like  a  trap  and  caught  them, 
and  they  both  laughed. 

Presently  Mrs.  Underbill,  who  sat  by  the  win 
dow  knitting  in  the  twilight,  said:  "  'Milyer,  that 
child  must  go  to  bed. " 

She  felt  she  had  to  issue  this  mandate  two  ol 
three  times,  so  she  began  early. 

They  hugged  each  other  and  laughed  a  little. 
Then  he  said:  "  All  the  chickens  right?" 


24      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"  Yes,  I  counted  them.  They're  so  cunning  and 
lovely." 

"  I  hope  they'll  get  their  feather  cloaks  on  be 
fore  cold  weather,"  said  her  father. 

" 'Milyer,  that  child  must  go  to  bed!  I  don't 
see  why  you  want  to  keep  her  up  all  hours  of 
the  night." 

They  hugged  each  other  a  little  closer  this 
time  and  did  not  laugh,  but  just  kissed  softly.  It 
was  beginnning  to  grow  dusky.  The  peeps  and 
crickets  and  katydids  were  out  in  force.  The 
katydids  told  you  there  would  be  frost  in  six 
weeks. 

When  her  mother  added  in  a  dignified  tone, 
"  Come,  Hannah  Ann,"  the  little  girl  took  one  last 
hug  and  came  into  the  room.  Margaret  had 
lighted  the  candles  in  their  polished  brass  candle 
sticks.  One  stood  on  the  hall  table,  one  on  the 
stand  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  Mrs.  Underhill 
had  knit  past  the  seam  in  her  stocking  and  pulled 
out  a  few  stitches.  Then  she  laid  it  down  and  un 
fastened  the  little  girl's  frock  and  said,  "  Now  run 
to  bed  this  minute. "  Margaret  was  reading,  but 
she  glanced  up  and  smiled. 

The  candle  made  a  vague  yellowish  light  on  the 
stairs.  There  were  people  who  burned  lamp-oil, 
as  the  oil  from  whales  was  called.  The  little  girl 
held  it  in  curious  awe,  associating  it  with  the 
story  of  Jonah.  Mrs.  Underhill  despised  the  "  ill- 


GOOD-BY  TO  AN  OLD  HOME  25 

smelling  stuff"  and  would  not  have  it  in  the 
house.  She  made  beautiful  candles.  Oil-wells 
had  hardly  been  thought  of,  except  that  some  one 
occasionally  brought  a  bottle  from  Pennsylvania 
for  rheumatism. 

The  little  girl  had  slept  in  her  mother's  room, 
which  answered  to  the  back  parlor,  until  this 
spring  when  she  had  gone  up  to  Margaret's  room. 
There  were  four  large  chambers  on  the  second 
floor  and  a  spacious  clothes-room  with  a  closet  for 
bedding.  Up  above  was  an  immense  garret  with 
four  gables.  The  three  younger  boys  and  the  two 
hired  men  slept  there. 

The  little  girl  didn't  mind  going  to  bed  alone, 
but  her  mother  generally  found  some  good  reason 
for  going  upstairs.  On  cool  nights  she  was  afraid 
the  little  girl  wasn't  well  covered;  and  to-night 
she  looked  in  and  said: 

"  I  hope  you're  not  bundled  up  in  a  blanket  this 
hot  night,  Hannah  Ann !  Children  seem  to  have 
such  little  sense." 

"  Oh  no,  I  have  only  the  sheet  over  me."  But 
the  little  girl  raised  up  and  held  out  her  arms,  and 
her  mother  gave  her  a  soft  squeeze  and  patted  the 
pillow  and  said: 

"  Now  you  must  go  to  sleep  like  a  good  little 
girl;"  quite  as  if  she  was  in  the  habit  of  being 
bad  and  not  going  to  sleep,  but  they  both  under 
stood. 


26      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

You  may  think  the  little  girl's  life  was  dull 
with  lessons  and  sewing  and  going  to  bed  at  dusk. 
But  she  found  no  end  of  fun.  Now  and  then  a 
host  o*  cousins  came,  and  they  climbed  trees,  ran 
races,  waded  in  the  brooks,  went  off  to  the  woods 
and  swung  in  the  wild  grape-vines.  Sometimes 
they  walked  out  on  the  end  of  a  wide-spreading 
branch,  holding  to  the  one  above,  and  when  they 
began  to  "  teeter"  too  much  they  gave  a  spring 
and  came  down  on  the  soft  ground.  The  little 
girl  could  go  out  a  long  way  because  she  was  so 
light  and  fearless.  They  never  broke  their  necks 
or  their  limbs.  They  laughed  and  shouted  and 
turned  summersaults  and  ran  races.  No  day  was 
ever  long  enough. 

The  school  was  a  good  mile  away,  but  on  very 
stormy  days  they  were  taken  in  the  covered 
wagon.  They  studied  with  a  will,  just  as  they 
played,  and  you  heard  nothing  about  nerves  in 
those  days. 

Some  of  the  parents  came  that  last  day  at 
school.  Jim  acquitted  himself  creditably  in  his 
"  Ode  to  Columbia,"  and  the  little  girl  recited  with 
a  rose  in  her  hand,  though  Margaret  had  quite  a 
trouble  to  find  one  for  her.  Roses  didn't  bloom 
all  the  year  round  as  they  do  now.  When  the 
children  were  dismissed  they  went  out  and  gave 
some  deafening  hurrahs  for  the  two  weeks'  vaca 
tion.  Oh,  what  throats  and  lungs  they  had ! 


GOOD-BY  TO  AN  OLD  HOME  27 

When  the  little  girl  reached  home  she  found  a 
houseful  of  company.  When  families  have  lived 
from  one  to  two  hundred  years  in  one  section  of 
the  country,  they  get  related  to  almost  everybody. 
And  though  Aunt  Becky  Odell  was  a  second 
cousin  of  her  mother's,  she  was  aunt  to  the  little 
girl  all  the  same.  She  had  come  up  from  West 
Farms  to  spend  a  few  days  and  brought  her  two 
little  girls.  Some  other  relatives  had  come  from 
Tarrytown. 

The  little  girl  greeted  everybody,  took  off  her 
Sunday  white  frock  that  had  a  needleworked  edge 
that  her  mother  had  worn  twenty  years  and  more 
ago.  Then  she  took  the  little  girls  out  to  see  the 
chickens  and  hunt  some  eggs  and  have  a  good  play 
on  the  hay  in  the  barn. 

"  Oh,  ain't  you  just  crazy  to  go  to  New  York  to 
live?"  cried  Polly  Odell.  "  The  stores  are  so 
beautiful!  When  I  go  down  I  just  don't  want  to 
come  back!" 

"  You  was  homesick  at  Aunt  Phoebe's,  you  know 
you  was,"  said  her  sister,  with  small  regard  for 
her  tense. 

"  Well,  I  didn't  like  Aunt  Phoebe  one  bit.  She's 
old  and  cross,  and  she  isn't  our  own  aunt  either. 
She  won't  let  you  stand  by  the  window  les'  you 
breathe  on  the  glass,  and  she  won't  let  you  rock 
on  the  carpet  nor  run  up  and  down  stairs,  nor 
touch  a  book,  and  makes  you  get  up  at  five  in  the 


28      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

morning  when  you're  so  sleepy.  She  wanted  me 
to  stay  'cause  she  said  'I  was  handy  to  wait  on 
her. '  And  it  wasn't  truly  New  York  but  way  up 
by  the  East  River.  I  wouldn't  have  stayed  for  a 
dollar.  I  just  jumped  up  and  down  when  poppy 
came,  and  she  said,  'For  goodness'  sake!  don't 
thrash  out  all  my  carpet  with  your  jouncin'  up 
an'  down.'  You  can  just  go  yourself,  Janey 
Odell,  and  see  how  you  like  it!" 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  want  to  go.  But  you  just 
jumped  at  it!" 

"Well,  I  thought  it  would  be  nice.  But  oh, 
Hanneran,  it's  just  splendid  here!  And  to-mor 
row  Uncle  'Milyer's  going  to  take  us  out  riding. 
He  said  so.  Oh,  Hanneran,  wasn't  you  awful 
'fear'd  to  speak  a  piece  before  all  the  folks  at 
school?" 

Polly  Odell  looked  at  her  in  amazement. 

"  Well— just  at  first " 

"  I  wouldn't  dast  to  for  a  dollar!"  cried  Janey. 

They  went  on  with  their  play,  now  and  then 
stumbling  against  a  discussion  that  never  really 
reached  the  height  of  a  dispute.  Margaret  came 
to  hunt  them  up  presently  that  they  might  have 
their  tousled  heads  smoothed  and  their  hands  and 
faces  washed. 

The  little  girl  was  always  interested  when  they 
had  a  high  tea  in  the  sitting-room.  The  best  old 
blue  china  was  out,  the  loaf  sugar,  and  the  sugar- 


GOOD-BY  TO  AN  OLD  HOME  29 

tongs  that  the  little  girl  watched  breathlessly  lest 
her  mother  should  lose  the  lump  of  sugar  before 
it  reached  the  cup. 

The  men  and  boys  were  having  supper  in  the 
other  room,  but  the  little  girls  waited  on  the 
porch.  They  were  so  quiet  and  kept  so  tidy  that 
Mrs.  Underbill  gave  them  a  lump  of  sugar  in  each 
glass  of  milk,  and  took  it  up  with  the  sugar-tongs, 
to  the  little  girl's  great  delight. 

She  couldn't  help  hearing  the  talk  as  they  all 
sat  out  on  the  porch.  Uncle  Paid  had  really  sold 
his  farm,  stock,  and  crops,  and  was  to  give  posses 
sion  in  September.  Then  they  would  visit  their 
two  sons  and  some  of  Aunt  Betsey's  people  in 
Michigan,  and  get  on  about  Christmas. 

"  It's  a  shame  to  have  to  give  up  the  house,"  de 
clared  Cousin  Odell.  "  Can't  you  keep  it,  'Milyer?" 

"  A  bargain's  a  bargain.  Paid  did  a  fair  thing 
when  he  went  away,  and  I  can't  do  less  than  a 
fair  thing  now.  If  he'd  died,  his  share  in  the 
house  would  have  been  offered  to  me  first.  I  dare 
say  we  could  put  on  an  addition  and  live  together 
without  quarrellin',  but  the  boys  want  to  go  to 
New  York,  and  they  couldn't  all  stay  here  and 
make  a  living.  The  young  folks  must  strike  out, 
and  I  tell  mother  if  she  don't  get  to  feeling  at 
home  I'll  come  back  and  build  her  a  house." 

"  It'll  never  be  like  this  one,"  said  Mrs.  Under 
bill  sharply. 


30      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"The  world  is  full  of  changes,"  declared  the 
Tarrytown  cousin. 

The  little  girl  sat  in  her  father's  lap  and  listened 
until  she  went  soundly  asleep.  Janey  Odell  leaned 
against  the  porch  column  and  almost  tumbled 
over.  Mrs.  Underbill  sprang  up. 

"  Mercy  on  us !  These  children  ought  to  be  in 
bed.  Wake  up,  Hannah  Ann !" 

"I'll  carry  her  upstairs,"  said  her  father,  and 
he  kissed  her  tenderly  as  he  laid  her  on  the  bed. 
Her  mother  undressed  her  and  patted  down  her 
pillow.  She  flung  her  arms  about  her  mother's 
neck. 

"Oh,  mother!"  she  cried  softly,  wonderingly, 
"  do  you  want  to  go  to  New  York?" 

"Child  dear,  I  don't  know  what  I  want,"  and 
there  was  a  muffled  sound  in  her  voice.  "  There, 
go  to  sleep,  dear.  Don't  worry." 

They  inspected  the  pretty  knoll  the  next  day 
where  Mrs.  Underhill  was  to  have  her  new  house 
built  if  they  didn't  take  root  in  New  York.  Were 
not  her  children  dearer  to  her  than  any  spot  of 
ground?  And  if  they  were  all  going  away 

The  children  had  a  very  jolly  time.  On  Mon 
day  the  Odells  went  home,  and  the  little  girl  hated 
to  say  good-by.  Cousin  Famie  Morgan,  her  real 
name  was  Euphemia,  wanted  to  go  to  White  Plains 
to  visit  a  while  with  Aunt  Ann  and  David,  and 
Cousin  Joanna  would  §tay  a  few  days  longer  and 


GOOD-BY  TO  AN  OLD  HOME  31 

go  to  New  York  to  do  some  shopping.  Margaret 
would  go  with  Cousin  Famie.  The  little  girl 
wanted  to  go  too,  and  take  her  patchwork.  She 
had  only  six  blocks  to  do  now. 

Grandmother  was  very  glad  to  see  her,  and 
praised  her  without  stint.  Uncle  David  and  Aunt 
Eunice  had  some  grandchildren.  Two  sons  and 
one  daughter  were  married,  and  one  son  and 
daughter  were  still  at  home.  Aunt  Eunice  was  a 
very  placid,  sweet  body,  and  still  clung  to  her 
Quaker  dress  and  speech,  though  she  went  to  the 
old  Episcopal  church  with  her  husband.  Her 
folks  lived  up  in  Putnam  County. 

Grandmother  would  have  spoiled  the  little  girl 
if  such  a  thing  had  been  possible.  She  would 
help  her  with  the  patchwork,  and  then  she  brought 
out  some  lovely  red  French  calico  that  was  soft 
and  rich,  and  began  to  join  it.  They  had  some 
nice  drives,  and  or/^  day  they  took  Cousin  Morgan 
home  and  stayed  to  dinner.  There  were  three 
single  women  living  together  in  a  queer  rambling 
house  that  had  been  added  to,  and  raised  in 
places.  Mr.  Erastus  Morgan  and  his  wife  lived 
in  Paris,  and  once  a  year  or  so  there  would  come 
a  package  of  pretty  things — china  and  ornaments 
of  various  kinds,  odd  pieces  of  silk  and  brocade 
for  cushions,  gloves,  and  fans  and  laces  and  silk 
for  gowns,  as  if  they  were  still  quite  young 
women. 


32      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Uncle  David  had  the  "  Knickerbocker  History 
of  New  York, "  which  everybody  now  knew  was 
written  by  Mr.  Washington  Irving,  and  various 
members  of  the  family  were  settled  about  Tarry- 
town,  and  many  thers  in  the  Sleepy  Hollow 
graveyard.  The  very  next  day  the  little  girl  be 
gan  to  read  the  history,  for  she  wanted  to  know 
about  New  York.  They  had  a  delightful  visit 
with  grandmother  and  Aunt  Eunice.  Uncle 
David  was  seven  years  older  than  her  father.  The 
little  girl  concluded  she  liked  him  very  much. 

When  she  and  Margaret  went  home  everything 
was  going  on  just  the  same.  The  little  girl  was 
somewhat  amazed.  No  one  said  a  word  about 
moving.  She  had  expected  to  see  everything 
packed.  The  children  started  for  school  as  usual. 
Then  Mrs.  Underhill  went  down  to  the  city  and 
stayed  a  fortnight  and  came  home  looking  worn 
and  worried.  The  impending  change  weighed 
upon  her.  But  the  little  girl  was  so  interested  in 
Mr.  Dederich  Knickerbocker  which  she  was  read 
ing  aloud  to  her  father  that  changes  hardly  mat 
tered. 

Early  in  December  Mr.  Frederic  Underhill  with 
his  wife  and  daughter  came  to  hand.  He  was 
thin  and  stooped  a  good  deal,  and  looked  older 
than  Uncle  David.  Aunt  Crete's  name  was 
Lucretia,  and  the  little  girl  was  amazed  to  learn 
that.  She  was  tall  and  thin  and  wore  a  black  lace 


GOOD-BY  TO  AN  OLD  HOME  33 

sort  of  cap  to  cover  the  bald  spot  on  her  head. 
Then  she  had  a  false  front  of  dark  hair.  Her 
own  was  very  thin  and  white.  She  had  been  a 
great  sufferer  from  'ager,'  as  she  called  it,  and  the 
doctors  said  only  an  entire  change  of  climate 
would  break  it  up.  And  goodness  only  knew  how 
glad  she  was  to  get  back  East. 

Lauretta — Retty  as  she  was  called — was  about 
twenty-two,  a  good,  stout,  commonplace  girl  who 
made  herself  at  home  at  once.  She  had  a  lover 
who  was  coming1  on  in  the  spring"  when  they  would 
be  married,  and  he  expected  "  to  help  Pop  farm. 
Pop  was  pretty  well  broken  down  with  hard  work, 
and  he'd  about  seen  his  best  days.  He'd  been 
awful  anxious  to  get  back  among-  his  own  folks, 
and  she,  Retty,  hoped  now  he'd  take  things  kinder 
easy. " 

Grandmother  and  Uncle  David's  family  came 
down  to  welcome  them.  All  the  country  round 
seemed  to  turn  out.  And  just  before  Christmas, 
with  all  the  rest  of  the  work,  the  little  girl's  quilt 
was  put  in.  Some  of  the  older  people  came  the 
first  day  and  had  a  fine  supper.  Next  afternoon 
it  was  the  young  people's  turn. 

The  little  girl  had  a  blue-and-white  figured  silk 
frock  made  from  a  skirt  of  her  mother's.  The 
tops  of  the  sleeves  were  trimmed  with  four  or  five 
ruffles  and  there  were  two  ruffles  around  the  neck. 
She  wore  her  gold  beads,  and  Margaret  curled 
3 


34      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

her  hair.  Everybody  praised  her  and  she  felt 
very  happy.  Some  of  the  young  men  came  in 
while  they  were  taking  the  quilt  out  of  the  frame, 
and  oh,  what  a  tussle  there  was !  The  girl  who 
could  wrap  herself  first  in  it  was  to  be  married 
first.  Such  pulling  and  laughing,  such  a  din  of 
voices  and  struggle  of  hands — you  would  have 
thought  all  the  girls  wild  to  get  married.  The 
little  girl  looked  with  dismay,  for  it  seemed  as  if 
her  quilt  would  be  torn  to  pieces. 

Retty  wound  one  corner  around  herself,  and 
two  of  the  young  men  rolled  Margaret  and  sev 
eral  of  the  other  girls  in  the  other  end  amid  the 
shouts  of  the  lookers-on. 

Then  grandmother  shook  it  out  and  folded  it. 

"There!"  she  exclaimed,  "to-morrow  I'll  put 
on  the  binding.  And,  Hannah  Ann,  you  have  a 
good  beginning.  Not  every  little  girl  can  show 
such  a  quilt  as  that,  pieced  all  by  herself  before 
she  was  eight  years  old!" 

"  But  you  helped,  grandmother " 

"  Nonsense,  child!  Just  a  piece  now  and  then! 
And  I've  a  nice  pair  of  wool  blankets  I'm  saving 
up  for  you  that  I  spun  myself.  You'll  have  a 
good  many  things  saved  up  in  a  dozen  years." 

What  fun  they  had  afterward!  There  were 
two  black  fiddlers  in  the  hall ;  one  was  Cato,  Aunt 
Mary's  grandson,  a  stylish  young  fellow  much  in 
demand  for  parties.  They  danced  and  danced. 


GOOD-BY  TO  AN  OLD  HOME  35 

Steve  took  his  little  sister  out  several  times,  and 
John  danced  with  her.  Her  father  thought  her 
the  very  prettiest  one  in  the  crowd.  Her  mother 
let  her  stay  up  until  eleven. 

"I'm  so  sorry  you  are  going  away,"  said  Retty, 
the  next  morning.  "  I  never  did  have  such  a 
good  time  in  my  life.  I  don't  see  why  we  can't 
all  live  together  in  this  big  house!" 

In  the  new  year  the  real  business  of  changing 
began.  It  was  hard  to  select  a  house.  Joe  said 
all  New  York  was  going  up-town,  and  that  before 
many  years  the  lower  part  of  the  city  would  be 
given  over  to  business.  Bond  and  Amity  Street, 
around  St.  John's  Park  and  East  Broadway 
were  still  centres  of  fashion.  The  society  people 
had  come  up  from  the  Bowling  Green  and  the 
Battery,  though  there  were  still  some  beautiful 
old  houses  that  business  people  clung  to  because 
they  wanted  to  be  near  to  everything.  Harlem 
and  Yorkville  were  considered  country.  Up  on 
the  east  side  as  far  as  Eightieth  or  Ninetieth 
Street  there  were  some  spacious  summer  resi 
dences  with  beautiful  grounds.  A  few  fine  man 
sions  clustered  about  University  Square.  City 
Hall  Park  was  still  covered  with  fine  growing 
shade-trees.  There  was  such  a  magnificent  foun 
tain  that  Lydia  Maria  Child,  describing  it,  said 
there  was  nothing  to  equal  it  in  the  Old  World. 

Still,    the    unmistakable    trend    was    uptown. 


36      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Grace  Church,  was  agitating1  a  new  building  at 
Tenth  Street.  Rows  of  houses  were  being  put 
up  on  the  new  streets,  though  down-town  people 
rather  scoffed  and  wondered  why  people  were  not 
going1  up  to  Harlem  and  taking1  their  business 
places  along1. 

After  much  discussion  the  Underbills  settled 
upon  First  Street.  Stephen  made  the  decision, 
though  he  had  great  faith  in"up-town."  This 
was  convenient.  Then  they  could  buy  through 
to  Houston  Street,  and  there  was  a  stable  and 
sort  of  storehouse  on  the  end  of  the  lot.  And 
though  you  wouldn't  think  it  now,  it  was  quite 
pretty  and  refined  then,  from  Avenue  A  out  to 
the  Bowery.  They  were  in  a  row  of  nice  brick 
houses,  quite  near  First  Avenue,  on  the  lower 
side  of  the  street.  Opposite  it  was  well  built  for 
quite  a  space,  and  then  came  the  crowning  glory 
of  the  block.  About  a  dozen  houses  stood  thirty 
or  so  feet  back  from  the  street  and  had  lovely 
flower-gardens  in  front.  Stephen  would  have 
liked  one  of  these,  but  the  houses  were  not  roomy 
enough.  And  in  their  own  place  they  had  a  nice 
grass-plot,  some  flower-beds,  and  several  fruit- 
trees,  beside  a  grape-trellis.  He  thought  his 
mother  would  be  less  homesick  if  she  could  see 
some  bloom  and  greenery. 

It  was  the  last  of  March,  1843,  that  the  little 
girl  came  to  New  York.     Mrs.  Underbill  believed 


GOOD-BY  TO  AN  OLD  HOME  37 

it  only  an  experiment.  When  the  boys  were 
grown  up  and  married,  settled  in  their  own 
homes,  she  and  'Milyer  would  go  back  to  Yonkers 
on  their  part  of  the  farm  and  have  a  nice  big 
house  for  their  old  age  and  for  the  grandchil 
dren.  In  her  motherly  heart  she  hoped  there 
would  be  a  good  many  of  them.  She  couldn't 
have  spared  any  of  her  eight  children. 

The  house  in  First  Street  seemed  very  queer. 
It  had  a  front  area  and  two  basements,  two  par 
lors  on  the  next  floor  with  folding-doors  and  a 
long  ell-room,  rather  narrow,  so  that  it  would  not 
darken  the  back  room  too  much.  Up-stairs  there 
were  three  large  chambers  and  one  small  one, 
and  on  the  fourth  floor,  that  did  not  have  full-size 
windows,  three  more.  That  there  was  no  "  gar 
ret"  caused  endless  lamentation. 

They  could  not  bring  old  Mary,  indeed  she 
would  not  come,  but  they  had  a  rather  youngish 
countrywoman  whose  husband  had  deserted  her, 
and  who  was  looking  for  a  good  home.  Mary 
thought  she  would  stay  a  while  with  the  "  new 
folks"  and  get  them  "broke  in,"  as  she  phrased 
it,  and  then  go  and  live  with  her  son. 

The  little  girl  stood  on  her  own  front  stoop 
looking  up  and  down  the  street.  It  was  queer 
the  houses  should  be  just  alike — six  brown-stone 
steps,  and  iron  side  railings,  and  an  iron  railing 
to  the  area,  that  was  paved  with-  brick.  You 


38      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

would  always  have  to  be  thinking  of  the  number 
or  you  might  get  into  the  neighbor's  house.  Oh, 
no.  Here  was  a  sure  sign,  the  bright  silver  door- 
plate  with  black  lettering — "  Vermilye  F.  Under 
bill."  She  looked  at  it  in  amazement.  It  made 
her  father  suddenly  grand  in  her  estimation. 
Could  she  sit  in  his  lap  just  the  same  and  twist 
his  whiskers  about  her  fingers  and  comb  his  hair 
and  read  out  of  her  story-books  to  him?  And 
where  would  she  go  to  school?  Were  there  any 
little  girls  around  to  play  with?  How  could  she 
get  acquainted  with  them? 

While  she  was  considering  this  point,  two  girls 
went  by.  Both  had  straw  gypsy  hats  with  flowers 
and  ruffled  capes  of  black  silk.  They  looked  up 
at  her.  She  was  going  to  smile  down  to  them  in 
the  innocent  belief  that  all  little  girls  must  be 
glad  to  see  each  other.  One  of  them  giggled — • 
yes,  she  absolutely  did,  and  said : 

"Oh,  what  a  queer-looking  thing!  Her  frock 
comes  down  to  her  shoe-tops  like  an  old  woman's, 
and  that  sun-bonnet !  Why  she  must  have  just 
come  in  from  the  backwoods!" 


Cbapter  Ubrec. 

FINE    FEATHERS    FOR    THE    LITTLE    WREN. 

THE  little  girl  stood  still  a.  moment  as  if  trans- 
fixed.  There  came  the  passionate  desire  to  run 
and  hide.  She  gave  the  door-bell  a  sharp  pull. 

Martha  Stimis  answered  it. 

"  Goodness  sakes,  is  it  you,  ringin'  as  if  the 
world  wouldn't  stand  another  minnit?  Next  time 
you  want  to  get  in,  Haneran,  you  jest  come  down 
the  aree!  And  me  a-mouldin'  up  the  biscuit!" 

The  little  girl  walked  through  the  hall  with  a 
swelling  heart.  She  couldn't  be  allowed  to  ring 
the  door-bell  when  her  own  father's  name  was  on 
the  door! 

The  ell  part  was  her  mother's  sleeping  cham 
ber  and  sitting-room.  No  one  was  in  it.  Han 
nah  Ann  walked  down  to  the  end.  There  was  a 
beautiful  old  dressing-case  that  had  been  brought 
over  with  the  French  great,  great  grandmother. 
It  had  a  tall  glass  coming  down  to  the  floor.  At 
the  sides  were  several  small  drawers  that  went  up 
about  four  feet,  and  the  top  had  some  handsome 
carved  work.  It  was  one  of  Mrs.  Underbill's 
choicest  possessions.  In  the  mirror  you  could 
see  yourself  from  "top  to  toe." 

39 


40      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

The  little  girl  stood  before  it.  She  had  on  a 
brown  woollen  frock  and  a  gingham  high  apron. 
Her  skirt  was  straight  and  long.  Her  laced  shoes 
only  came  to  her  ankles.  Her  stockings  were 
black,  and  she  remembered  how  she  had  watched 
these  little  girls  coming  down  the  street,  their 
stockings  were  snowy  white.  Of  course  she  wore 
white  yarn  ones  on  Sundays.  A  great  piece  of 
their  pantalets  was  visible,  ruffled,  too.  Yes,  she 
did  look  queer !  And  the  starch  was  mostly  out 
of  her  sun-bonnet.  It  wasn't  her  best  one, 
either. 

She  sat  down  on  a  little  bench  and  cried  as  if 
her  heart  would  break. 

"  Oh,  Hanny  dear,  what  is  the  matter?" 

Margaret  had  entered  the  room  unheard.  She 
knelt  by  her  little  sister,  took  off  her  sun-bonnet 
and  pressed  the  child  in  her  arms.  "  What  is  it, 
dear?"  in  a  soft,  persuasive  voice.  "  Have  you 
hurt  yourself?" 

"  No.  I — I "  Then  she  put  her  little  arms 

around  Margaret's  neck.  "Oh,  Peggy,  am  I 
very,  very  queer?" 

"You're  a  little  darling.  Did  Martha  scold 
you?" 

"  No.  It  wasn't — some  girls  came  along " 

She  tried  very  hard  to  stop  her  sobbing. 

"There,  dear,  let  me  wash  your  face.  Don't 
cry  any  more. "  She  laid  aside  the  bonnet  and 


FINE  FEATHERS  FOR  THE  LITTLE  WREN  41 

bathed  the  small  face,  then  she  began  to  brush 
the  soft  hair.  It  had  not  been  cut  all  winter  and 
was  quite  a  curly  mop.  Stephen  had  bought  her 
a  round  comb  of  which  she  was  very  proud. 

"  It  was  two  girls.  They  went  by  and  they 
laughed " 

Her  voice  was  all  of  a  quaver  again,  but  she 
did  not  mean  to  cry  if  she  could  help  it. 

"  Did  they  call  you  'country'? " 

Margaret  smiled  and  kissed  the  little  girl,  whc 
tried  to  smile  also.  Then  she  repeated  the  ill- 
bred  comment. 

"We  are  not  quite  citified,"  said  Margaret 
cheerfully.  "  And  it  isn't  pleasant  to  be  laughed 
at  for  something  you  cannot  well  help.  But  all 
the  little  girls  are  wearing  short  dresses,  and  you 
are  to  have  some  new  ones.  Mother  has  gone  out 
shopping,  and  next  week  cousin  Cynthia  Blackfan 
is  coming  to  fix  us  all  up.  But  I  do  hope,  Hanny, 
you  will  have  better  manners  and  a  kinder  heart 
than  to  laugh  at  strangers,  no  matter  if  they  are 
rather  old-fashioned. " 

"  I  don't  believe  I  ever  will,"  said  the  little  girl 
soberly. 

"  Now  come  up  in  my  room.  Mother  said  I 
might  rip  up  her  pretty  blue  plaid  silk  and  have  it 
made  over.  I  came  down  to  hunt  up  the  waist. " 

She  found  it  in  one  of  the  drawers,  pinned  up 
in  a  linen  pillow-case. 


42      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"And  you  can  have  on  a  white  apron,"  tho 
elder  said  when  they  reached  the  room. 

This  had  long  sleeves  and  a  ruffle  round  the 
neck.  The  little  girl  was  ever  so  much  im 
proved. 

And  I  think  she  would  have  felt  comforted  if 
t>he  could  have  heard  the  rest  of  the  talk  between 
the  two  girls. 

"  I  do  wonder  if  she  belongs  to  the  new  people, " 
said  the  girl  who  laughed.  "  They  can't  be  much, 
They  came  from  the  country  somewhere. " 

"  But  they've  bought  all  the  way  through  to  the 
other  street.  And  ma  said  she  meant  to  call  on 
them.  Some  one  told  her  they  owned  a  big  farm 
in  Yonkers,  and  one  of  the  young  men  is  to  be 
a  doctor.  Maybe  the  little  girl  doesn't  really  be 
long  to  them.  I  wish  you  hadn't  spoken  quite  so 
loud.  I'm  sure  she  heard." 

"Oh,  I  don't  care!"  with  an  airy  toss  of  the 
head.  "  Mother  said  the  other  day  she  shouldn't 
bother  about  new  neighbors.  Calling  on  them  is 
out  of  style." 

Hanny  looked  out  of  the  window  a  long  while. 
Then  she  said  gravely :  "  Margaret,  are  all  those 
old  Dutch  people  dead  that  were  in  the  history? 
And  where  was  their  Bowery?" 

"  It  is  the  Bowery  out  here,  but  it  has  changed. 
That  was  a  long,  long  time  ago, " 

"  If  I'd  lived  then  no  one  would  have  laughed 


FINE  FEATHERS  FOR  THE  LITTLE  WREN  43 

about  my  long  frock.  I  almost  wish  I'd  been  a 
little  girl  then." 

"  Perhaps  there  were  other  things  to  laugh 
about." 

"  I  don't  mind  the  laughing  now.  But  they 
must  have  had  lovely  gardens  full  of  tulips  and 
roses.  There  doesn't  seem  any  room  about  for 
such  things.  And  lanes,  you  know.  Did  the  new 
people  drive  the  Dutch  away?" 

"  The  English  came  afterward.  You  will  read 
all  about  it  in  history.  And  then  came  the 
war " 

"That  grandmother  knows  about?  Margaret, 
I  think  New  York  is  a  great,  strange,  queer  place. 
There  are  a  good  many  queernesses,  aren't 
there?" 

Margaret  assented  with  a  smile. 

"Oh,  there's  father  in  the  wagon!"  The  little 
girl  was  all  a  tremor  of  gladness.  He  caught  her 
eyes  and  beckoned,  and  she  ran  down.  But  she 
couldn't  manage  the  night-latch,  and  so  Margaret 
had  to  follow  her. 

"  Bundle  up  my  little  girl,"  he  said.  "  I've  got 
to  drive  up  to  Harlem  and  I'll  take  her  along." 

Hanny  almost  danced  for  joy.  Margaret  found 
her  red  merino  coat.  The  collar  was  trimmed 
with  swan's  down,  and  her  red  silk  hood  had  an 
edge  of  the  same.  True,  some  ultra-fashionables 
had  come  out  in  spring  attire,  but  it  was  rather 


44      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

cool  so  early  in  the  season.  Hanny  looked  very 
pretty  in  her  winter  hood.  And  as  they  drove 
down  the  street  the  same  girls  were  standing  on 
a  stoop ;  one  was  evidently  going  away  from  her 
friend.  The  one  who  laughed  lived  there  then. 
But  neither  of  them  would  have  guessed  it  was 
the  "  queer"  girl,  and  they  almost  envied  her. 

"I've  never  been  down  to  this  corner,"  said 
Hanny.  "  And  the  streets  run  together. " 

"  Yes,  First  Street  ends  and  Houston  goes  on 
over  to  the  East  River. " 

The  little  girl  looked  about.  There  was  a  great 
sign  on  the  house  at  the  junction — "  Monticello 
Hotel," — and  on  the  edge  of  the  sidewalk  a 
pump,  which  the  little  girl  thought  funny.  They 
dipped  the  water  out  of  the  spring  at  home — they 
had  not  given  up  saying1  that  about  the  old  place. 
There  was  no  need  of  a  pump,  and  at  grand 
mother's  they  had  a  well-sweep  and  bucket. 

Then  they  turned  up  Avenue  A,  where  he  had 
an  errand,  and  soon  they  were  going  over  rough 
country  ways  where  "squatters"  had  begun  to 
come  in  with  pigs  and  geese.  They  seemed  so 
familiar  that  the  little  girl  laughed.  And  if  some 
one  had  told  her  that  she  would  one  day  be  driv 
ing  in  a  beautiful  park  over  yonder  it  would  have 
sounded  like  a  fairy  tale.  It  was  rough  and  wild 
now.  Dobbin  spun  along,  for  the  sun  was  hurry 
ing  over  westward. 


FINE  FEATHERS  FOR  THE  LITTLE  WREN  45 

"We  have  some  old  cousins  living1  beyond 
there  on  Harlem  Heights."  he  said,  "but  it's  too 
late  to  hunt  them  up.  And  it'll  be  dark  by  the 
time  we  get  home.  There  was  a  big  battle  fought 
here.  Their  brother  was  killed  in  it.  Why,  they 
must  be  most  eighty  years  old. " 

The  little  girl  drew  a  long  breath  at  the 
thought. 

"We'll  look  them  up  some  day."  Then  he 
stopped  before  a  hotel  where  there  was  a  long- 
row  of  horse  sheds,  and  sprang  out  to  tie  Dobbin. 

"  I  had  better  take  you  out.  Something  might 
happen."  He  carried  her  in  his  arms  clear  up 
the  steps.  A  lady  came  around  the  corner  of  the 
wide  porch. 

"  I'll  leave  my  little  girl  in  the  waiting-room  a 
few  moments.  I  have  some  business  with  Mr. 
Brockner,"  he  said. 

"  I  will  take  her  through  to  my  sitting-room," 
the  lady  replied,  and  holding  out  her  hand  she 
led  Hanny  thither.  She  insisted  on  taking  off 
her  hood  and  loosening  her  coat,  and  in  a  few 
moments  she  seemed  well  acquainted.  The  lady 
asked  her  father's  name  and  she  told  it. 

"  There  are  some  old  ladies  of  that  name  living 
half  a  mile  or  so  from  here,"  she  said.  Then  re 
membering  they  were  very  poor,  and  that  poor 
relations  were  not  always  cordially  accepted,  she 
hesitated. 


46      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"  Father  spoke  of  some  cousins,"  cried  the  little 
girl  eagerly.  "  He  said  sometime  we  would  hunt 
them  up.  We  only  came  to  New  York  to  live  two 
weeks  ago. " 

"  Then  you  have  hardly  had  time  to  look  up 
any  one.  They  would  be  glad  to  see  your  father, 
I  know.  He  looks  so  wholesome  and  good- 
natured.  " 

The  little  girl  was  not  an  effusive  child,  but 
she  and  the  lady  fell  into  a  delightful  talk.  Then 
her  hostess  brought  in  a  plate  of  seed  cookies, 
and  she  was  eating  them  very  delicately  when 
her  father  entered. 

"We  have  had  such  a  nice  time,"  she  said, 
"that  I'd  like  you  to  bring  your  little  girl  up 
again.  Indeed,  I  have  half  a  mind  to  keep  her." 

"We  couldn't  spare  her,"  said  her  father,  with 
a  fond  smile,  which  Hanny  returned. 

"  I  suppose  not.  But  it  will  soon  be  beautiful 
around  here,  and  when  she  longs  for  a  breath  of 
the  country  you  must  bring  her  up. " 

"  Thank  you,  madam. " 

"And  oh,  father,  the  cousins  really  are  here. 
Two  old,  old  ladies " 

Mr.  Underhill  inquired  about  them,  and  learned 
their  circumstances  were  quite  straitened.  He 
promised  to  come  up  soon  and  see  them. 

Mrs.  Brockner  kissed  Hanny,  quite  charmed 
with  her  simplicity  and  pretty  manner.  And  she 


FINE  FEATHERS  FOR  THE  LITTLE  WREN  47 

had  never  once  thought  about  the  length  of  her 
old  brown  skirt. 

It  was  supper  time  when  they  reached  home. 
Steve  and  Joe  and  John  were  there.  The  three 
younger  boys  had  been  left  at  Yonkers.  Indeed, 
George  had  declared  his  intention  of  being  a  far 
mer.  Mrs.  Underhill  said  she  didn't  want  any 
more  boys  until  she  had  a  place  to  put  them. 

Afterward  Joe  coaxed  the  little  girl  to  come  and 
sit  on  his  knee.  They  were  talking  about  schools. 

"  Seems  to  me,  Margaret  better  be  studying 
housekeeping  and  learning  how  to  make  her 
clothes  instead  of  going  to  school,"  said  Mrs. 
Underhill  shortly.  "  She  can  write  a  nice  letter 
and  she's  good  at  figures,  and,  really,  I  don't 
see " 

"She  wants  to  be  finished,"  returned  Steve, 
with  a  laugh.  "  She's  a  city  girl  now.  I've  been 
looking  schools  over.  There  are  several  estab 
lishments  where  they  burnish  up  young  ladies. 
There's  Madame  Chegary's " 

"  I  won't  have  her  going  to  any  French  school 
and  reading  wretched  French  novels!" 

Steve  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed.  He 
had  such  splendid,  strong,  white  teeth. 

"  My  choice  would  be  Rutgers  Institute.  It's 
going  to  be  the  school  of  the  day,"  declared  Joe. 

"  Exactly.  I  was  coming  to  that.  There  would 
be  one  term  before  vacation." 


48      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"  I  call  it  all  foolishness.  And  she'll  be  eigh 
teen  on  her  next  birthday,"  said  her  mother.  "  If 
she  wasn't  a  good  scholar  already  —  and  what 
more  do  you  expect  her  to  learn?" 

They  all  laughed  at  their  mother's  little  ebulli 
tion  of  temper. 

"The  world  grows  wiser  every  day,"  said  Joe 
sententiously. 

"  And  what  are  you  going  to  do,  Pussy?" 

Steve  reached  over  and  gave  the  little  girl's 
ear  a  soft  pinch. 

"  I  am  going  to  look  up  a  nice  school  for  her 
myself.  Don't  begin  to  worry  about  a  child  not 
yet  eight  years  old,"  said  their  mother  sharply. 

"Eight  years.  She'll  soon  be  that,"  remarked 
her  father  with  a  soft  sigh.  And  he  wished  he 
could  keep  her  a  little  girl  always. 

They  went  on  discussing  Rutgers  Institute,  that 
was  one  of  the  most  highly  esteemed  schools  of 
the  day  for  young  ladies.  Steve  looked  over  at 
his  fair  sister — she  was  almost  as  pretty  as  Dolly 
Beekman.  Dolly  had  some  dainty,  attractive 
ways,  played  on  the  piano  and  sang,  and  Peggy 
had  a  voice  blithe  as  a  bird.  Steve  was  beginning 
to  be  quite  a  judge  of  young  ladies  and  social 
life,  and  there  was  no  reason  why  they  should  not 
all  aim  at  something.  They  had  good  family 
names  to  back  them.  Family  counted,  but  so  did 
education  and  accomplishments. 


FINE  FEATHERS  FOR  THE  LITTLE  WREN  49 

Mrs.  Underbill  gave  in.  Steve  would  have  his 
way.  But  then  he  was  such  a  good,  upright,  af 
fectionate  son.  So  when  he  announced  that  he 
had  registered  his  sister,  Margaret's  pulses  gave 
a  great  thrill  of  delight. 

There  was  so  much  to  do.  True,  Martha  was 
a  good  cook  and  capable,  and  there  was  no  milk 
to  look  after,  no  churning,  no  poultry,  and  the 
countless  things  of  country  life.  Miss  Cynthia 
Blackfan  came  the  next  week  and  remodeled  the 
feminine  part  of  the  household.  She  was  a  tall, 
slim,  airy-looking  person,  with  large  dark  eyes 
and  dark  hair  that  she  wore  in  long  ringlets  on 
either  side  of  her  face.  She  always  looped  them  up 
when  she  was  sewing.  She  had  all  the  latest  quips 
of  fashion  at  her  tongue's  end — what  Margaret 
must  have  for  school  dresses,  what  for  Sunday  best, 
what  lawns  and  ginghams  and  prints  for  summer. 

But  when  she  went  at  the  little  girl  she  quite 
metamorphosed  her. 

"  You  must  begin  to  plait  the  child's  hair  and 
tie  it  with  ribbons  [people  generally  used  the 
word  instead  of  'braid'].  And  her  frocks  must  be 
made  ever  so  much  shorter.  And,  Cousin  Under- 
hill,  do  put  white  stockings  on  the  child.  No 
body  wears  colored  ones.  Unbleached  do  wear 
stronger  and  answer  for  real  every  day." 

"They'll  be  forever  in  the  wash-tub,"  said  the 
mother  grimly. 
4 


50      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"  Well,  when  you're  in  Rome  you  must  do  as 
the  Romans  do,"  with  emphasis.  "  It  looks  queer 
to  be  so  out  of  date.  Everybody  dresses  so  much 
more  in  the  city.  It's  natural.  There's  so  much 
going  and  coming." 

Even  then  people  had  begun  to  discuss  and 
condemn  the  extravagance  of  the  tday.  The  old 
residents  of  the  Bowling  Green  were  sure  Bond 
Street  and  the  lower  part  of  Fifth  Avenue  were 
stupendous  follies  and  would  ruin  the  city.  For 
eign  artistic  upholsterers  came  over,  carpets  and 
furniture  of  the  most  elegant  sort  were  imported, 
and  even  then  some  people  ordered  their  gowns 
and  cloaks  in  Paris.  Miss  Blackfan's  best  cus 
tomer  had  gone  over  for  the  whole  summer,  other 
wise  she  would  not  have  the  fortnight  for  Cousin 
Underbill.  She  uttered  her  dictum  with  a  certain 
authority  from  which  there  was  no  appeal.  And 
she  charged  a  dollar  and  a  half  a  day,  while  most 
dressmakers  were  satisfied  with  a  dollar. 

So  the  little  girl  had  her  hair  braided  in  two 
tails — they  were  quite  short,  though,  and  her 
father  liked  the  curly  mop  better.  Little  girls' 
dresses  were  cut  off  the  shoulder,  and  made 
with  a  yoke  or  band  and  a  belt.  In  warm  weather 
they  wore  short  sleeves,  though  a  pair  of  long 
sleeves  were  made  for  cool  days.  There  were 
some  tucks  in  the  skirt  to  be  let  down  as  the  child 
grew. 


FINE  FEATHERS  FOR  THE  LITTLE  WREN  51 

The  little  girl  was  most  proud,  I  think,  of  her 
pantalets.  There  were  some  nankin  ones  made 
for  every  day.  And  she  had  a  real  nankin  frock 
that  Margaret  embroidered  just  above  the  hem. 
It  was  used  a  great  deal  for  aprons,  too.  Aprons, 
let  me  tell  you,  were  no  longer  "  high-ups"  with 
a  plain  armhole.  They  were  sometimes  gathered 
on  a  belt  and  had  Bertha  capes  over  the  shoulders 
trimmed  with  edging  or  ruffles.  And  every  well- 
conditioned  little  girl  had  one  of  black  silk. 

"  She'll  have  to  hem  her  own  ruffles,"  declared 
Mother  Underhill  almost  sharply.  "And  how 
they're  ever  to  get  ironed " 

"There's  hemstitching  and  fagoting,  but  I 
don't  know  as  it's  any  less  work  than  ruffling. 
And  all  the  little  girls  are  knitting  lace.  I'm 
doing  some  myself,  oak-leaf  pattern  out  of  sev 
enty  cotton,  and  it's  as  handsome  as  anything  you 
ever  see." 

"  I  don't  know  how  any  one  is  going  to  find 
time  for  so  much  folderol!" 

"  Oh,  pshaw,  Cousin  Underhill,  we  did  lots  of 
it  in  our  day.  I  worked  the  bottom  of  a  party 
dress  a  good  quarter  up,  and  Vandyke  capes,  and 
those  great  big  collars.  And  we  tucked  up  to  the 
waist.  There's  always  something.  And  those 
old  Jewish  women  had  broidery  and  finery  of 
every  sort,  and  'pillows'  in  their  sleeves  as  we 
wore  years  ago.  See  what  a  little  it  takes  to 


52      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

make  a  pair  of  sleeves  now!  We  must  have 
looked  funny,  all  sleeves  and  waists  up  under  our 
arms." 

When  you  consider  that  sewing-machines  had 
not  been  invented,  it  was  a  wonder  how  the  wo 
men  accomplished  so  much.  But  they  always  had 
some  "catch-work"  handy.  The  little  girl  was 
provided  with  a  pretty  work-basket,  six  spools 
of  cotton,  a  pincushion,  a  needle-book,  a  bit  of 
white  wax,  and  an  emery,  which  was  a  straw 
berry-shaped  cushion  topped  off  with  some  soft 
green  stuff  she  knew  afterward  was  chenille. 
This  was  to  keep  her  needles  bright  and  smooth. 
Then  she  had  three  rolls  of  ruffling,  yards  and 
yards  in  each  piece.  One  was  cambric,  one  was 
fine  lawn  or  nainsook,  and  one  of  dimity.  She 
had  done  some  overseam  in  sheets,  she  had 
hemmed  towels  and  some  handkerchiefs,  and  sewed 
a  little  on  the  half-dozen  shirts  Margaret  had 
made  for  father  last  winter.  But  the  stitches  had 
to  be  so  small,  and  oh,  so  close  together!  Then 
they  looked  badly  if  they  were  not  straight.  She 
liked  the  dimity  the  best  because  the  stitches 
seemed  to  sink  in,  and  it  ruffled  so  of  itself. 

But  the  little  girl  didn't  sew  all  the  time.  She 
wiped  dishes  for  Martha.  And  one  day,  when 
she  saw  a  little  girl  up  the  street  sweeping  the 
sidewalk,  she  begged  to  do  that.  She  could  dust 
a  room  very  nicely.  There  was  much  running 


FINE  FEATHERS  FOR  THE  LITTLE  WREN  53 

up  and  down,  and  she  was  always  glad  to  wait 
upon  Steve.  Indeed,  she  ran  errands  cheerfully 
for  anybody.  But  she  did  miss  Benny  Frank  and 
Jim. 

Margaret  had  felt  quite  diffident  about  her  new 
school,  and  at  first  rather  shrank  from  the  young 
ladies,  much  as  she  desired  to  be  among  them. 
But  she  found  herself  quite  advanced  in  some  of 
the  studies,  and  in  a  week's  time  began  to  feel  at 
home.  Two  girls  were  very  friendly,  Mary  Bar 
clay  and  Annette  Beekman. 

Perhaps  Steve  hadn't  been  quite  as  disinter 
ested  as  it  seemed.  He  had  met  Dolly  Beekman 
at  Miss  Jane  Barclay's  party  early  in  the  winter. 
They  had  taken  a  mutual  fancy.  Old  Peter 
Beekman  lived  at  the  lower  end  of  Broadway, 
and  had  a  farm  " up  the  East  River,"  about  Nine 
ty-sixth  Street.  He  had  five  girls,  and  the  two 
last  had  been  sore  disappointments.  But  Har 
riet,  the  eldest,  had  married  her  cousin  and  had 
four  Beekman  boys.  Two  others  were  married. 
Dolly  had  graduated  from  Rutgers  the  year  be 
fore  and  was  now  nineteen.  Annetje,  as  the  old 
Dutch  name  was  spelled,  was  not  quite  seven 
teen.  Margaret  had  been  put  in  her  class  in 
most  branches. 

Steve  did  want  the  Beekmans  to  think  well  of 
his  people.  He  and  Dolly  were  not  declared 
lovers,  but  they  understood  each  other.  Old 


54      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Peter  made  inquiries  about  the  young  man,  and 
if  they  had  not  been  satisfactory  Stephen  would 
soon  have  known  it.  So  he  felt  quite  assured. 
And  though  his  mother  talked  of  her  sons  marry 
ing,  he  knew  that  just  at  first  it  would  come  a 
little  hard  to  find  she  had  a  rival. 

"Well,  Peggy,"  he  said,  Friday  evening  of  the 
first  week,  "  how  does  school  go?  Seen  any  girls 
you  like?" 

"  I've  seen  two  that  know  you,"  and  Margaret 
laughed.  "  Mary  Barclay  said  you  had  been  at 
their  house.  And  so  did  Annie  Beekman. " 

"Yes,  I  was  at  Miss  Beekman's  party;  quite  a 
fine  affair.  And  I've  been  there  to  play  whist. 
They're  a  jolly  crowd.  Next  winter  we  must 
have  a  few  parties.  And  I'm  going  to  get  a 
piano." 

"  Oh,  you  lovely  Steve!"  She  squeezed  his  arm 
rapturously. 

"  You  have  a  very  pretty  voice,  Peggy.  Annie 
Beekman's  sister  sings  beautifully.  How  do  you 
like  Annie?" 

"Why,  you  never  can  tell  whether  she  is  in 
earnest  or  quizzing  you.  But  she's  ever  so  much 
prettier  than  Mary.  Yes,  on  the  whole  I  like 
her." 

"  You  ought  to  see  her  sister  Dolly.  She  has 
real  flaxen  hair  and  such  a  complexion!" 

"Annie  has  a  lovely   complexion,  too.     There 


FINE  FEATHERS  FOR  THE  LITTLE  WREN  55 

are  a  great  many  pretty  girls  in  the  world.  I 
have  a  curious  sort  of  pity  for  those  who  are  not 
a  bit  pretty,"  Margaret  said  sympathetically. 

Steve  laughed  and  nodded,  as  if  the  idea 
amused  him. 

If  Margaret  and  Annie  became  friends,  and  if 
Dolly  and  Annie  came  to  call — well,  he  was  sure 
they  would  all  fall  in  love  with  Dolly.  And  then 
the  matter  would  go  on  smoothly.  People  thought 
more  of  being  friendly  with  their  relations  by 
marriage  in  those  days. 


(Tbapter  jf our. 

A   LOOK    AT    OLD    NEW    YORK. 

ON  a  Sunday  toward  the  end  of  April,  Stephen 
took  his  two  sisters  down  to  the  Battery  for  a 
walk.  It  was  very  warm  and  springlike.  The 
cherry-tree  in  their  yard  had  come  out  in  bloom. 
Buds  were  swelling  everywhere,  and  the  gray 
spots  were  all  green  and  shining  in  the  soft  gold 
en  atmosphere.  There  was  the  wide,  magnifi 
cent  expanse  of  the  bay,  the  edge  of  Brooklyn, 
the  hazy  outline  of  Staten  Island,  the  vague  Nar 
rows  that  seemed  to  lead  to  some  unknown  world. 
And  there  was  the  great  round  Castle  Garden, 
the  Castle  Clinton  of  earlier  times,  where  a  few 
years  later  the  little  girl  was  to  hear  some  of  the 
world's  most  famous  singers.  And  when  she 
looked  out  of  that  weird,  narrow  waterway  and 
wondered  just  where  Europe  was,  and  how  for 
eign  countries  must  look,  she  could  not  by  the 
most  vivid  stretch  of  imagination  fancy  herself 
sailing  out  to  that  unknown  country. 

The  short  grass  was  so  lovely  and  green,  and 
the  waves  came  lapping  up  with  a  silvery  melody. 
There  were  people  lounging  on  the  seats,  ladies 

56 


A  LOOK  AT  OLD  NEW  YORK  57 

with  sunshades  in  their  hands,  mothers  with  some 
little  children,  fathers  with  a  son  or  two,  or  a 
little  girl  like  herself  in  pantalets  and  white 
stockings  and  low  shoes.  The  clothes  she  thought 
were  beautiful.  The  hats  were  full  of  flowers. 
She  had  a  new  straw  gypsy  with  a  wreath  of  but 
tercups,  and  soft  yellow  strings  tied  under  her 
chin.  Her  challi  de  laine  had  small  blue  flowers 
on  a  white  ground,  with  yellow-brown  centres, 
and  there 'was  a  blue  ribbon  ti«d  about  her  waist, 
with  a  bow  at  the  back.  She  had  a  white  cape  of 
some  soft  cotton  goods  with  a  satiny  finish,  war 
ranted  to  wash  as  good  as  new.  She  would  have 
liked  a  sunshade,  but  she  had  so  many  new  things. 

She  thought  quite  a  good  deal  about  her  pretty 
clothes,  and  how  glad  she  should  be  to  learn  more 
geography.  Stephen  was  talking  about  Hudson's 
expedition  up  the  river  to  which  he  gave  his 
name,  and  a  few  months  later  when  some  hovels 
were  built  to  shelter  the  sailors,  the  beginning  of 
a  settlement.  And  how  in  1614  the  Dutch  erected 
$.  rude  fort  and  gave  the  place  the  name  of  New 
Amsterdam.  Then  the  Dutch  West  India  Com 
pany  bought  Manhattoes  Island  from  the  natives 
for  goods  of  various  kinds,  amounting  to  sixty 
guilders. 

"  You  see  the  Dutch  were  thrifty  traders  even 
then,  more  than  two  hundred  years  ago,"  says 
Stephen  with  a  pleasant  laugh. 


58      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"  How  much  are  sixty  guilders?"  asks  the  little 
girl.  It  sounds  an  immense  sum  to  her.  And  to 
buy  a  whole  city ! 

"  It  was  about  twenty-four  dollars  at  that  time," 
replies  Stephen. 

The  little  girl's  face  is  amusing  in  its  sur 
prise. 

"Only  twenty -four  dollars!  And  father  had 
three  hundred  a  few  days  ago.  Why,  he  could 
have  bought" — well,  the  limitless  area  takes  away 
her  breath. 

"  I  don't  believe  we  should  have  wanted  to 
live  in  such  a  wilderness  as  it  was  then." 

"  But  when  Walter  the  Testy  came — he  was 
really  here? "  It  is  rather  chaotic  in  her  mind. 

"  He  was  here.  Wouter  van  Twiller  was  his 
real  name.  Then  a  line  of  Dutch  governers, 
after  which  the  island  was  ceded  to  the  British. 
It  became  quite  a  Royalist  town  until  the  Revo 
lutionary  War.  We  had  a  'scrap'  about  tea, 
too,"  and  Stephen  laughs.  "Old  Castle  Clinton 
was  a  famous  spot.  And  when  General  Lafay 
ette,  who  had  helped  us  fight  our  battles,  came 
over  in  1824,  he  had  a  magnificent  ovation  as  he 
sailed  up  the  bay.  It's  a  splendid  old  place." 

Everybody  seemed  to  think  so  then.  The  birds 
were  singing  in  the  sunshine,  and  the  rural  aspect 
was  dear  to  the  hearts  of  the  older  people.  They 
rose  and  walked  about  in  the  fragrant  air.  Now 


A  LOOK  AT  OLD  NEW  YORK  59 

and  then  some  one  bowed  gravely  to  Stephen. 
There  was  a  Sunday  decorum  over  all. 

They  rambled  up  to  the  Bowling  Green.  Some 
quaintly  attired  elderly  people  who  had  the  entrte 
of  the  place  were  sitting  about  enjoying  the  love 
liness.  One  old  Frenchman  had  a  ruffled  shirt- 
front  and  a  very  high  coat-collar  that  made  him 
look  like  a  picture,  and  knee-breeches. 

Some  one  sprang  up,  and  coming  to  the  gate 
said:  "Oh,  Mr.  Underhill,  and  Miss  Margaret! 
Is  this  your  little  sister?  Do  walk  in  and  chat 
with  us.  My  sister  Jane  and  I  have  come  down 
to  dine  with  the  Morrises,  and  it  was  so  lovely 
out  here.  Isn't  it  a  charming  day?" 

There  was  Miss  Jane  Barclay  very  fashionably 
attired,  Miss  Morris,  and  her  brother,  who  was 
very  attentive  to  Miss  Barclay,  and  a  little  farther 
on  Mrs.  Morris,  fat,  fair,  and  matronly.  She  was 
reading  "The  Lady  of  the  Manor,"  and  when  the 
little  girl  found  it  afterward  in  a  Sunday-school 
library,  Mrs.  Morris  seemed  curiously  mixed  up 
with  it.  Sunday  papers  at  that  period  would 
have  horrified  most  people. 

"What  a  dear  little  girl!"  said  Mrs.  Morris. 
"  Come  here  and  tell  me  your  name.  Why,  you 
look  like  a  lily  astray  in  a  bed  of  buttercups. 
Is  it  possible  Mr.  Stephen  Underhill  is  your 
brother?" 

"The  eldest  and  the  youngest,"  explained  Ste- 


60      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

phen.     "And    this    is    my   sister,    Miss    Under 
hill." 

Mrs.  Morris  bowed  and  shook  hands.  Then 
she  made  room  on  the  settee  for  the  child. 

"  You  haven't  told  me  your  name,  my  dear." 

Mrs.  Morris'  voice  was  so  soft,  almost  plead 
ing.  The  little  girl  glanced  up  and  colored,  and 
if  the  bank  could  have  broken  and  let  her  money 
down  in  the  ocean,  or  some  one  could  have  stolen 
it  and  bought  a  new  Manhattan  Island  in  the 
South  Seas, — so  that  she  could  have  had  a  new 
name,  she  wouldn't  have  minded  a  bit.  But  she 
said  with  brave  sweetness : 

"  Hannah  Ann.  I  was  named  after  both  grand 
mothers." 

"  That's  a  long  name  for  such  a  little  girl.  I 
believe  I  should  call  you  Nannie  or  Nansie.  And 
Mr.  Morris  would  call  you  Nan  at  once.  I  never 
knew  such  a  man  for  short  names.  We've  al 
ways  called  our  Elizabeth  Bess,  and  half  the  time 
her  father  calls  her  Bet,  to  save  one  letter." 

The  little  girl  laughed.  The  economy  of  the 
thing  seemed  funny. 

"What  does  your  father  call  you?" 

"  'Little  girl,'  most  always.  Margaret  was 
grown  into  quite  a  big  girl  when  I  was  born,  so 
I  was  the  little  girl." 

"Well — that's  pretty,  too.  And  where  are  you 
living?" 


A  LOOK  AT  OLD  NEW  YORK  61 

"In  First  Street." 

"Why,  that's  way  up-town!  And — let  me  see 
— you  did  live  at  Yonkers?  I've  never  been 
there.  Is  it  a  town?" 

"  We  lived  on  a  great  big  farm.  And  oh,  the 
Croton  water  pipe  came  right  across  one  corner 
of  it." 

"Ah,  you  should  have  seen  the  celebration! 
Such  a  wonderful,  indescribable  thing!" 

"  Margaret  came  down  and  most  of  the  boys. 
Mother  said  I  would  be  crushed  to  death. " 

"And  she  couldn't  spare  her  little  girl!  Well, 
I  don't  blame  her.  Do  you  go  to  school?" 

"No,  ma'am,  not  yet."  All  the  children  but 
the  very  rough  ones  said  "no,  ma'am,"  and  "yes, 
ma'am, "  in  those  days.  "  But  I  did  go  at  Yonkers. " 

"  And  what  did  you  learn. " 

She  was  quite  astonished  at  the  little  girl's  at 
tainments,  and  her  simplicity  she  thought  charm 
ing.  When  Stephen  came  for  her,  Mrs.  Morris 
said: 

"  I  have  really  fallen  in  love  with  your  little 
sister.  You  must  bring  her  down  again.  We 
think  there's  nothing  to  compare  with  our  Bow 
ling  Green  and  the  Battery. " 

They  bade  each  other  a  pleasant  adieu.  It  was 
time  to  go  home,  indeed.  The  little  girl  felt  very 
happy  and  joyous,  and  she  thought  her  pretty 
clothes  had  helped.  Perhaps  they  had. 


62      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

She  sat  on  her  father's  knee  that  night  telling 
him  about  Mrs.  Morris.  And  she  suddenly 
said: 

"  Father,  what  was  the  Reign  of  Terror?" 

"  The  Reign  of  Terror?  Oh,  it  was  a  horrible 
time  of  war  in  France.  Where  did  you  pick  up 
that?" 

"  There  was  an  old  man  in  the  Green  who  had 
on  a  queer  sort  of  dress — knee-breeches  and 
buckles  on  his  shoes  like  those  of  grandfather's. 
And  ruffles  all  down  his  shirt-bosom  and  long, 
curly,  white  hair.  And  Mrs.  Morris  said  he  was 
in  prison  in  the  Reign  of  Terror,  and  then  came 
to  America  with  his  daughter,  and  that  his  mind 
had  something  the  matter  with  it.  Do  you  sup 
pose  he  got  awfully  frightened?" 

"  I  dare  say  he  did,  my  dear.  When  you  are  a 
big  girl  y°u  will  learn  all  about  it  in  history. 
But  you  needn't  hurry.  There  are  a  great  many 
pleasanter  things  to  learn. " 

She  leaned  her  head  down  on  her  father's 
shoulder  and  thought  how  sad  it  must  be  to  lose 
one's  mind.  Was  that  the  part  of  you  always 
thinking?  How  curious  it  was  to  always  think  of 
something!  Your  feet  didn't  always  walk,  your 
hands  didn't  always  work,  but  that  strange  thing 
inside  of  you  never  stopped.  Oh,  yes,  it  had  to 
when  you  were  asleep.  But  then  you  sometimes 
dreamed.  And  the  little  girl  fell  fast  asleep 


A  LOOK  AT  OLD  NEW  YORK  63 

over  psychology  that  she  didn't  know  a  word 
about. 

Early  in  the  next  week  Mrs.  Underhill  took  the 
little  girl  and  went  up  to  Yonkers.  She  said  she 
was  homesick  to  see  the  boys.  And  oh,  how  glad 
they  were  to  see  her !  Aunt  Crete  was  laid  up 
with  the  tic  douloureux.  Retty  was  full  of  work 
and  house-cleaning,  and  her  lover  had  come  on. 
He  was  a  Vermonter  by  birth,  and  an  uncle  in 
the  Mohawk  valley  had  brought  him  up.  Then 
he  had  gone  West,  but  not  taken  especial  root 
anywhere.  He  was  tall  and  thin,  with  reddish 
hair  and  beard,  but  the  kindliest  blue  eyes  and  a 
pleasant  voice.  He  and  George  had  struck  up  a 
friendship  already.  And  Retty  confided  to  Aunt 
Margaret  "  that  she  was  going  to  be  married  with 
out  any  fuss,  and  Bart  was  goin'  to  turn  in  and 
help  run  the  farm." 

Everything  wore  a  different  aspect  even  in  this 
brief  while.  Mrs.  Underhill  had  some  things  to 
pack  up,  that  she  was  going  to  leave,  a  while  at 
least,  in  the  garret.  Her  sister-in-law  was  very 
glad  to  take  anything  she  wanted  to  dispose  of, 
since  they  had  sold  their  furniture  at  the  West. 

Oh,  how  wonderful  the  world  was  to  the  little 
girl !  The  trees  were  coming  out  in  bloom,  there 
were  great  bunches  of  yellow  daffodils,  and  the 
May  pinks  were  full  of  buds.  And  then  the 
chickens,  the  ducks'  nests  full  of  eggs,  the  pretty 


64      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

little  dark-eyed  calf  that  the  boys  had  tamed  al 
ready!     And  the  children  at  school!     Everybody 
was  wild  over  Hanny  and  glad  to  get  her  back. 

But  it  was  queer  she  should  miss  her  father  so 
much  when  it  came  night.  She  went  out  on  the 
old  stoop  and  felt  strangely  lonesome.  Then  the 
boys  came  round,  having  done  up  their  share  of 
the  chores. 

"  Do  you  reely  like  it,  Hanny?"  asked  Jim. 

She  knew  he  meant  the  city. 

"  Well — father  and  Steve  and  Joe  and  John  are 
there" — yet  her  tone  was  a  little  uncertain. 

"  Are  there  any  boys  about?" 

"  I  don't  know  any.  I  haven't  had  time  to  find 
any  girls.  But  there  is  a  big  public  school  round 
in  Houston  Street,  and  I  guess  there's  a  thousand 
children.  You  should  see  them  coming  out  of 
the  gate." 

"Hm'n!  I  don't  believe  there's  a  thousand 
children  in  all  New  York.  That's  ten  hundred, 
Miss  Hanny!" 

Hanny  was  sobered  by  the  immensity  of  her 
statement,  for  she  was  a  very  truthful  little  girl. 

"What  have  you  been  doing  all  this  time?"  Jim 
asked  impatiently. 

"  Well — there  was  the  house  to  get  to  rights. 
And  we  had  to  have  some  new  clothes  made.  A 
girl  laughed  at  me  one  day  and  said  I  looked 
queer." 


A  LOOK  AT  OLD  NEW  YORK  65 

"  If  I'd  been  there  I'd  punched  her  head.  Yes 
— I  see  you're  mighty  fine.  Would  /  look 
queer?" 

"Oh,  boys  always  look  alike,"  returned  Hanny 
reflectively.  "  We  had  a  beautiful  walk  one  Sun 
day  on  the  Battery,  and  I  think,"  hesitatingly, 
"  that  all  the  boys  had  on  roundabouts." 

"Are  you  sure  they  didn't  have  on  overcoats?" 

"Don't  plague  her,  Jim.  Tell  us  about  the 
Battery,  Hanny." 

Hanny  could  describe  that  quite  vividly.  Jim 
soon  became  interested.  When  she  paused  he 
said,  "What  else?"  She  told  them  of  her  ride  up 
to  Harlem,  and  a  walk  down  the  Bowery  to  Chat 
ham  Square. 

"  But  there  ain't  any  real  bowers  in  it  any  more, 
only  stores  and  such  things." 

"What  a  pity,"  commented  Benny  Frank. 

"  Well,  I  think  I'd  like  to  go  as  soon  as  mammy 
can  get  ready.  It  isn't  as  much  fun  here  without 
you  all." 

"Oh,  Jim,  don't  say  mammy.  They  don't  do 
it  in  the  city,"  said  the  little  girl  beseechingly. 

"  If  you  think  I'm  going  to  put  on  French  airs, 
you're  much  mistaken,  Miss  Hanny!  I'll  say 
pop  and  mammy  when  I  like.  I'm  not  going  to 
dress  up  in  Sunday  best  manners  because  you 
wear  ruffled  pantalets.  It  makes  you  look  like  a 
feather-legged  chicken!" 
5 


66      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"  Don't  mind  him,  Hanny,"  said  Ben  tenderly. 
"  I  wish  I  had  seen  that  old  man  at  the  Bowling 
Green " 

"  Do  they  make  bowls  there?"  interrupted  teas 
ing  Jim. 

"  Because  I've  been  reading  about  France  and 
the  Reign  of  Terror,"  Benny  Frank  went  on,  not 
heeding  his  brother.  "It  was  in  about  17 94. 
Robespierre  was  at  the  head  of  it.  And  there 
was  a  dreadful  prison  into  which  they  threw 
everybody  they  suspected,  and  only  brought 
them  out  for  execution.  It  must  have  been  terri 
ble  !  And  the  poor  old  man  must  have  been  quite 
young  then.  I  should  think  he  would  have  lost 
his  mind." 

"Bother  about  such  stuff!  You'd  rather  be  in 
New  York,  wouldn't  you,  Hanny?  And  mother 
said  we  might  come  as  soon  as  she  was  settled. 
I'm  not  going  to  stay  here  and  be  ordered  about  by 
this  Finch  fellow.  Retty's  soft  as  mush  over  him. 
Say,  Ben,  you  would  like  to  go,  wouldn't  you?" 

"Yes,  I  think  I  would,"  answered  Ben  slowly. 
"  There  would  be  such  a  splendid  chance  to  learn 
about  everything." 

Their  mother  had  been  walking  around  the  fa 
miliar  paths  with  George,  who  had  developed 
some  ideas  of  his  own  in  this  brief  space.  And 
his  mother  had  not  realized  before  how  tall  and 
stout  he  was  getting. 


A  LOOK  AT  OLD  NEW  YORK  67 

"I'd  like  to  see  father  and  Steve  and  make 
some  plans.  I'd  like  to  work  part  of  father's 
ground  on  shares  or  some  way.  I'm  glad  Dave 
Andrews  is  staying  on.  I  don't  altogether  like 
Uncle  Faid's  ideas,  and  oh,  mother,  'tisn't  any 
such  jolly  home  as  you  had.  Poor  Aunt  Crete  is 
so  miserable.  But  you  see  if  I  really  had  some 
interest  of  my  own  I'd  be  learning  all  the  time." 

"I'm  sure  your  father  will  consent."  His 
mother  felt  so  proud,  leaning  on  his  arm.  And 
some  time  they  would  come  back.  So  they  talked 
the  matter  over  with  eager  interest,  and  she  quite 
forgot  about  the  little  girl's  bedtime.  Retty  had 
joined  them  and  was  rehearsing  some  of  her 
Western  experiences,  and  the  little  girl  sat  with 
wide-open  eyes,  looking  at  Retty  in  the  moon 
light,  thinking  what  a  great  wonderful  world  it 
was  to  have  so  many  places  and  all  so  different. 
Did  you  have  two  organs  of  thought?  She  was  so 
puzzled  about  thought,  anyhow.  For  with  one 
side  of  her  that  didn't  see  Retty,  she  could  see 
her  father  so  plainly  in  this  very  corner,  and  she 
was  in  his  arms,  and  with  the  faculty  that  wasn't 
listening  to  her  cousin  she  could  hear  her  father's 
voice.  You  see,  she  wasn't  old  enough  to  know 
about  dual  consciousness. 

When  Hanny  went  upstairs  with  her  mother 
the  boys  went  also. 

"  Say,  Ben,"  and  his  brother  gave  him  a  dig  in 


68      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

the  ribs  with  his  elbow;  "say,  Ben,  don't  you 
want  to  go  back  to  New  York  with  mother?  If 
we  just  push  with  all  our  might  and  main,  to 
gether  we  can." 

"  Well,  don't  push  me  through  the  side  of  the 
house." 

"  You  want  to  be  pushed  all  the  while.  You're 
as  slow  as  'lasses  in  winter  time.  Ben,  you  take 
after  Uncle  Paid.  It  takes  him  'most  all  day  to 
make  up  his  mind.  Now  I  can  look  at  a  thing 
and  tell  in  a  minute." 

"  You  seem  ready  enough  to  tell. "  Ben  laughed 
a  little  provokingly. 

"  Well,  you  can  go  or  not  as  you  like.  'Taint 
half  the  fun  here  that  it  used  to  be.  I  didn't 
think  I  cared  so  much  for  Hanny." 

"  Is  it  Hanny?"  in  a  tone  that  irritated. 

"  It's  Hanny  and  mother  and  John  and  father 
and  New  York,  and  just  a  million  things  rolled 
into  a  bundle.  And  if  you  don't  care  I'll  fight 
my  way  through.  There,  Benjamin  Franklin! 
You'd  sit  on  a  stone  in  the  middle  of  a  field  and 
fly  your  kite  forever!" 

Jim  was  losing  his  temper. 

"Yes,  I  think  I'd  like  to  go.  There  would  be 
so  much  to  see  and  learn. " 

"  Oh,  hang  it  all !     Simply  go !" 

Ben  was  thinking  of  the  old  man — he  must  have 
been  quite  young  then  —  who  was  in  prison 


A  LOOK  AT  OLD  NEW  YORK  69 

through  that  awful  Reign  of  Terror.  He  un 
dressed  slowly.  He  was  not  such  a  fly-away  as 
Jim.  But  Jim  was  asleep  before  he  was  ready  for 
bed. 

Mrs.  Underhill  had  not  really  meant  to  take  the 
boys  home  with  her.  She  was  quite  sure  the  city 
was  a  bad  place  for  boys.  And  the  country  was 
so  much  healthier  in  the  summer.  But  they 
coaxed.  And  somehow,  the  old  home  had 
changed  already.  The  air  of  brisk  cheerfulness 
was  gone.  Aunt  Crete  had  her  face  tied  up  most 
of  the  time,  or  a  little  shawl  over  her  head.  Retty 
was  undeniably  careless.  Barton  Finch  played 
cards  with  the  hired  man.  Uncle  Paid  had  some 
queer  ideas  about  farming. 

"I'd  like  wonderful  well  to  have  the  boys 
stay,"  he  said.  "They're  worth  their  keep.  A 
boy  '  round '  s  mighty  handy.  I '  d  have  to  hire  one. ' ' 

Somehow  she  wasn't  quite  willing  to  have  her 
boys  put  in  the  place  of  a  hired  one,  or  one  bound 
out  from  the  county  house.  And  Jim  had  been 
her  baby  for  so  long.  The  little  girl  pleaded  also. 
She  told  them  finally  they  might  come  down  and 
try.  But  if  they  were  the  least  bit  bad  or  diso 
bedient  they  would  be  sent  back  at  once. 

Mrs.  Underhill  was  half-cured  of  her  homesick 
ness.  She  had  thought  she  could  never  be  con 
tent  in  New  York;  why,  she  was  almost  content 
already. 


70      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

She  and  Hanny  took  a  walk  the  last  day  of 
their  stay  up  on  the  knoll  where  the  new  house 
was  to  be  built. 

"  When  all  the  children  are  married  and  father 
and  I  get  to  be  old  people,  we  will  come  back 
here.  I  shall  want  you,  Hanny,"  and  she  held 
the  little  girl's  hand  in  a  tight  clasp. 

Hanny  wondered  if  she  would  be  stout  and 
have  full  red  cheeks  and  look  like  Retty?  And 
oh,  she  did  hope  her  mother  wouldn't  have  tic 
douloureux  and  wear  shawls  over  her  head.  When 
all  the  children  were  married — oh,  how  lonesome 
it  would  be ! 

But  she  had  been  quite  a  little  heroine  and  gone 
to  school  one  day  to  see  the  girls  and  boys.  And 
one  girl  said:  "I  s'pose  it's  city  fashion  to  wear 
pantalets  that  way,  but  my !  doesn't  it  look  queer !" 

She  was  very  glad  to  get  back  to  her  father. 
The  country  was  beautiful  with  all  its  bloom  and 
fragrance,  but  First  Street  had  such  a  clean,  tidy 
look  with  its  nagged  sidewalks  and  the  dirt  all 
swept  up  to  the  middle  of  the  street,  leaving  the 
round  faces  of  the  cobble-stones  fairly  shining. 
It  was  quite  delightful  to  show  the  boys  all  over 
the  house  and  then  go  through  the  yard  to  the 
stables  and  greet  Dobbin  and  Prince.  And  Bat 
tle,  the  dog,  called  so  because  he  had  been  such 
a  fighter,  but  commonly  known  as  Bat,  wagged 
his  whole  body  with  delight  at  sight  of  the  boys. 


Cbapter  jflve. 

GIRLS    AND    GIRLS. 

A  WEEK  or  so  after  Mrs.  Underbill's  return, 
one  of  the  neighbors  called  one  afternoon  and 
brought  her  two  little  girls,  Josie  and  Tudie 
Dean.  Tudie  stood  for  Susan.  The  little  girl 
was  summoned,  and  the  three,  after  the  fashion  of 
little  girls,  sat  very  stiff  on  their  chairs  and  looked 
at  each  other,  then  cast  their  eyes  down  on  the 
carpet,  fidgeted  a  little  with  the  corners  of  their 
white  aprons,  and  then  gave  another  furtive 
glance. 

"  Hanny,  you  might  take  the  little  girls  out  in 
the  yard  and  gather  a  nosegay  for  them. "  Flower 
roots  and  shrubs  had  been  brought  down  from 
the  "old  place,"  and  there  was  quite  a  showing  of 
bloom. 

The  mothers  talked  meanwhile  of  the  street, 
and  Mrs.  Dean  spoke  of  the  wonderful  strides  the 
city  was  making  up-town.  A  few  objectionable 
people  had  come  in  the  old  frame  houses  at  the 
lower  end  of  the  street.  When  Mr.  Dean  built, 
some  seven  years  ago,  it  was  all  that  could  be 
desired,  but  already  immigrants  were  forcing  their 

71 


72      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

way  up  Houston  Street.  If  something-  wasn't 
done  to  control  immigration,  we  should  soon  be 
overrun.  The  Croton  water  had  been  such  a 
great  and  wonderful  blessing.  And  did  her  little 
girl  go  to  school  anywhere?  Josie  and  Tudie 
went  up  First  Avenue  by  Third  Street  to  a  Mrs. 
Craven,  a  rather  youngish  widow  lady,  who  had 
two  daughters  of  her  own  to  educate,  and  who 
was  very  genteel  and  accomplished.  Little  girls 
needed  some  one  who  had  gentle  and  pretty  man 
ners.  There  was  a  sewing-class,  and  all  through 
the  winter  a  dancing-class,  and  Mrs.  Craven  gave 
lessons  on  the  piano.  Public  schools  were  well 
enough  for  boys,  but  they  were  too  rude  and 
rough  for  little  girls. 

Mrs.  Underhill  assented.     "  She  wouldn't  think 
of  sending  Hannah  Ann  to  a  public  school. " 

"She  looks  like  a  very  delicate  child,"  com 
mented  Mrs.  Dean. 

"She's  always  been  very  well,"  said  the 
mother,  "  but  she  is  small  for  her  age.  And  all 
of  my  children  have  grown  up  so  rapidly." 

"  I  couldn't  believe  those  young  men  belonged 
to  you.     And  that  tall,  pretty  young  girl. " 

Mrs.  Underhill  smiled  and  flushed  and  betrayed 
her  pride  in  her  eight  nice  healthy  children. 

"I  envy  you  some  of  your  sons,"  Mrs.  Dean 
went  on.     "  I  never  had  but  the  two  little  girls." 

They  came  in  now,  each  with  the  promised 


GIRLS  AND  GIRLS  73 

nosegay,  and  full  of  delight.  They  were  round 
and  rosy,  and  looked  more  like  one's  idea  of  a 
country  girl  than  little  lilybud  Hannah.  But 
they  were  all  eager  now,  and  even  her  cheeks 
were  pink.  They  had  talked  themselves  into 
friendship.  And  Josie  wanted  to  know  if  Hanny 
couldn't  come  and  see  them,  and  if  they  couldn't 
have  their  dishes  out  and  have  tea  all  by  them 
selves? 

Mrs.  Dean  looked  up  at  Mrs.  Underbill,  and 
replied:  "Why,  yes,  if  her  mother  is  willing. 
Saturday  would  be  best,  as  you  are  not  in 
school." 

That  was  only  two  days  off.  Hanny's  eyes  en 
treated  so  wistfully.  And  the  Deans  lived  only 
three  doors  away. 

"  Why,  yes, "  answered  her  mother  with  a  touch 
of  becoming  hesitation. 

Hanny  was  telling  this  eventful  interview  over 
to  Jim  as  they  sat  on  the  stoop  that  evening. 
Ben  was  reading  a  book,  Jim  was  trying  the  toes 
of  his  shoes  against  the  iron  railing  and  secretly 
wishing  he  could  go  barefoot. 

"  And  they  have  a  real  play-house  upstairs  in 
one  room.  There's  two  beds  in  it  and  two  bu 
reaus,  and  oh,  lots  of  things!  Josie  has  seven 
dolls  and  Tudie  four.  Tudie  gave  two  of  hers 
away,  and  Josie  has  a  lovely  big  wax  doll  that  her 
aunt  sent  from  Paris.  And  a  table,  and  their 


74      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

mother  lets  them  play  tea  with  bread  and  cake 
and  real  things.  And  I'm  to  go  on  Saturday." 

Hanny  uttered  this  in  a  rapid  breath. 

"Sho!"  ejaculated  Jim  rather  disdainfully. 
"  They're  not  much  if  they  play  with  dolls.  Now 
/  know  some  girls " 

The  boys  had  been  at  Houston  Street  public 
school  not  quite  a  week.  Jim  knew  half  the  boys 
at  least,  already,  and  all  the  boys  that  lived  on 
the  block.  He  wasn't  a  bit  afraid  of  girls,  either, 
though  he  generally  called  them  "  gals. " 

"There's  some  living  down  the  street,  and 
Jiminy!  if  they  haven't  got  names!  You'd  just 
die  of  envy !  Rosabelle  May,  think  of  it !  And 
Lilian  Alice  Ludlow.  Lily's  an  awful  pretty  girl, 
too.  And  they  wanted  to  know  all  about  you  and 
Peggy." 

"  Did  you  tell  her  my  name?"  asked  the  little 
girl  timidly. 

"Well — don't  you  know  you  said  you  wished  it 
was  Anna?"  Jim  answered  slowly.  "  I  just  said 
it  so  it  sounded  like  Anna.  And  Lily  said  she'd 
seen  you  riding  with  father.  I  wish  you'd  walk 
down  there,"  coaxingly. 

"  I'll  see  if  mother  will  let  me. "  Hanny  sprang 
up. 

"And  put  on  a  nice  white  apron,"  said  Jim. 

"They're  too  old  for  Hanny,"  began  Ben,  look 
ing  up  from  his  book. 


GIRLS  AND  GIRLS  75 

"Why,  Lily's  only  eleven.    And  anyhow " 


Jim  didn't  know  just  how  to  explain  it.  Lily 
had  begged  him  that  afternoon  to  bring  his  little 
sister  down.  To  tell  the  truth  she  was  very  am 
bitious  to  know  the  Underbills.  They  must  be 
somebody,  for  they  kept  horses  and  a  carriage, 
and  owned  their  house. 

"Do  you  know,"  said  Belle  May  as  they 
watched  Jim  going  up  the  street,  "  I  half  believe 
the  little  girl  who  stood  on  the  stoop  that  day 
is  Jim's  sister." 

"  That  little  country  thing!  I  never  thought  of 
it.  But  I  don't  suppose  she  really  heard." 

"  If  she  did — what  will  you  do?" 

"Do?"  Lily  tossed  her  head.  "Why,  I  shall 
act  just  as  if  I  never  said  it  or  had  seen  her 
before  or  anything.  You  don't  suppose  I'm  a 
goose  in  pin-feathers,  do  you?  I  want  to  get  ac 
quainted  with  them.  Of  course  I  shall  ask  both 
boys  to  my  birthday  party.  I  should  only  ask  the 
nice  people  in  the  street. " 

Margaret  threw  her  pretty  pink  fascinator 
round  Hanny's  shoulders.  She  didn't  need  any 
hat  this  warm  summer  night.  Hanny  was  very 
proud  to  walk  down  the  street  with  her  brother, 
who  knew  so  many  girls  already.  Jim  wasn't  a 
bit  afraid  of  being  called  a  "girl  boy."  Quite  a 
number  of  people  were  sitting  out  on  their 
stoops.  It  was  the  fashion  then.  Some  of  the 


76      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

ladies  were  knitting  lace  on  two  little  needles 
that  had  sealing1  wax  on  one  end,  so  the  stitches 
could  not  drop  off.  There  was  much  pleasant 
chatting.  The  country  ways  of  sociability  had 
not  all  gone  out  of  date. 

They  walked  down  to  the  lower  end,  where  the 
houses  were  rather  irregular  and  getting  old. 
Two  or  three  had  a  small  grass  door-yard  in 
front.  Two  girls  were  walking  up  and  down 
with  their  arms  around  each.  Jim  knew  in  a 
moment  who  they  were,  but  he  loitered  behind 
them  until  they  turned. 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Lily  Ludlow  in  well-acted 
surprise.  "Are  you  out  taking  a  walk?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Jim,  quite  as  innocently  as  if 
the  matter  had  not  been  arranged  a  few  hours 
ago.  "  And  this  is  my  sister.  And  this  is  Lily 
Ludlow,  and  this  Belle  May." 

Alas  for  Hanny!  Lily  Ludlow  was  the  girl 
who  had  called  her  "  queer"  and  laughed.  The 
child's  face  flushed  and  there,  was  a  lump  in  her 
throat. 

"  You  don't  go  to  school,  do  you?"  asked  Lily 
with  the  utmost  nonchalance.  She  was  quite 
ready  for  anything. 

The  little  girl  made  an  effort,  but  no  words 
would  come.  She  could  never  like  this  girl  with 
the  pretty  name,  she  felt  very  sure. 

"No,"   said    Jim.     "She's    so    small    for  her 


GIRLS  AND  GIRLS.  77 

size  that  mother  would  be  afraid  of  her  getting 
lost." 

They  all  giggled  but  the  little  girl,  who  wanted 
to  run  away. 

"But  you  like  New  York,  don't  you?  Jim 
thinks  he  wouldn't  go  back  to  the  country  for 
anything. " 

We  had  not  come  to  "  Bet  your  life, "  and 
"  There's  where  your  head's  level,"  in  those  days. 
But  Jim  answered  for  his  sister — "  You  just  guess 
I  wouldn't,"  with  a  deal  of  gusto. 

They  all  walked  up  a  short  distance.  The 
girls  and  Jim  had  all  the  talk,  and  they  chaffed 
each  other  merrily.  Hanny  was  silent.  She 
really  was  too  young  for  their  fun. 

Belle  May's  mother  called  her  presently,  and 
the  little  girl  said  in  a  whisper :  "  Oh,  Jim,  we  must 
go  home." 

Jim  wondered  if  he  might  ask  Lily  to  walk  with 
them,  so  he  could  come  back  with  her.  But  she 
settled  it  with  a  gay  toss  of  the  head. 

"Good-night,"  she  said.  "Come  down  again 
some  evening." 

"What  a  little  stupid  you  are,  Hanny!"  Jim 
began,  vexed  enough.  "Why  didn't  you  ask 
them  to  walk  up  our  way!  And  you  never  said 
a  word!  I  could  have  given  you  an  awful 
shake !" 

"I— I  don't  like  them." 


78      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"  You  don't  know  anything  about  them.  Ben 
and  I  see  them  half  a  dozen  times  a  day,  and  walk 
to  school  with  them,  and  they're  nice  and  pretty 
and  have  some  manners.  You're  awful  country, 
Hanny!" 

The  little  girl  began  to  cry. 

"  Oh,  what  a  baby  you  are !  Well,  I  s'pose  you 
can't  help  it!  You're  only  eight,  and  I'm  almost 
thirteen.  And  Lily  Ludlow's  nearly  eleven.  I 
suppose  you  do  feel  strange  among  girls  so  much 
older." 

"It  isn't  that,"  sobbed  the  little  girl.  How 
could  she  get  courage  to  tell  him? 

"  Oh,  Hanny,  dear, don't  cry. "  Jim's  voice  soft 
ened — they  were  nearing  home.  "  See  here,  I'll  ask 
father  to  take  us  to  Tompkins  Square  on  Sunday, 
and  you  shall  paint  out  of  my  new  box.  There ! 
and  don't  tell  any  one — don't  say  a  word  to  Ben." 

He  kissed  her  and  wiped  her  eyes  with  the  end 
of  her  starchy  apron.  Jim  was  very  coaxing  and 
sweet  when  he  tried. 

"Joe's  here,"  said  Ben.  "And  he  thought  the 
wolves  would  eat  you  up  if  you  went  too  far.  He 
wants  to  see  you." 

Jim  dropped  down  on  the  step.  Hanny  ran 
through  the  hall.  They  were  using  the  back  par 
lor  as  a  sitting-room,  and  everybody  seemed  talk 
ing  at  once.  Joe  held  out  his  arms  and  the  little 
girl  flew  to  them. 


GIRLS  AND  GIRLS.  79 

Then  it  came  out  that  Joe  had  taken  one  of  the 
prizes  for  a  thesis,  and  he  would  shortly  be  a  full 
fledged  M.D.  He  was  so  jubilant  and  the  rest 
were  so  happy  that  the  little  girl  forgot  all  about 
her  discomfort. 

Jim  came  rushing  in.  "  Where's  the  hundred 
dollars?"  he  inquired. 

Joe  laughed.  "  I  have  not  received  the  money 
yet.  I  thought  the  announcement  was  enough 
for  one  night. " 

"  You  and  Hanny'll  be  so  stuck  up  there'll  be 
no  living  with  you,"  said  Jim. 

Hanny  glanced  up  with  a  smiling  face.  If  she 
had  only  looked  that  way  at  Lily  Ludlow !  But 
even  his  schoolmate  was  momentarily  distanced 
by  the  thought  of  such  a  prize.  And  he  remem 
bered  later  on  with  much  gratification  that  he 
could  tell  her  to-morrow. 

Miss  Chrissy  Ludlow  had  been  sitting  by  the 
front  window  in  her  white  gown,  half  expecting  a 
caller.  When  Lily  entered,  she  inquired  if  that 
little  thing  was  the  Underhill  girl? 

"Oh,  that's  the  baby,"  and  Lily  giggled. 
"There's  a  young  lady  who  goes  to  Rut 
gers — well,  I  suppose  she  isn't  quite  grown 
up,  for  she  doesn't  wear  real  long  dresses.  And 
they  have  another  brother  in  the  country — six 
brothers!" 

Chrissy  sighed.     If  she  only  knew  some  way  to 


8o      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

get  acquainted  with  the  young1  woman.  And  all 
the  brothers  fairly  made  one  green  with  envy. 

"You  keep  in  with  them,"  she  advised  her  sis 
ter.  "  You  might  as  well  look  up  in  the  world 
for  your  friends. " 

There  were  not  many  people  in  the  street  who 
kept  a  carriage.  Chrissy  longed  ardently  to  know 
them.  And  she  had  been  almost  fighting  for  a 
term  at  Rutgers.  Mr.  Ludlow  was  a  common 
place  man,  clerk  in  a  shoe-store  round  in  Houston 
Street,  and  capable  of  doing  repairs.  They  rented 
out  the  second  floor,  as  they  could  not  afford  to 
keep  the  whole  house.  But  since  Chrissy  had 
found  out  that  they  were  distant  connections  of 
some  Ludlows  quite  well  off  and  high  up  in  the 
social  scale,  she  had  felt  extremely  aristocratic- 
For  a  year  she  had  been  out  of  school,  and  now 
her  mother  thought  she  better  learn  dressmaking* 
since  she  was  so  "handy."  She  meant  to  get 
married  at  the  first  good  opportunity. 

Mr.  Thackeray  in  England  was  writing  about 
snobs  during  this  period.  He  thought  he  found 
a  great  many  in  London.  And  even  among  the 
republican  simplicity  of  New  York  he  could  have 
found  some. 

Hanny's  second  attempt  at  social  life  was  a 
much  greater  success.  The  visit  at  the  Deans' 
was  utterly  delightful.  The  play-house  was  en 
chanting.  They  dressed  and  undressed  the  dolls, 


GIRLS  AND  GIRLS  81 

they  gave  Hanny  two,  and  called  her  Mrs.  Hill,  be 
cause  Underhill  was  such  a  long  name,  and  they 
had  an  aunt  by  the  name  of  Hill.  They  "  made 
believe"  days  and  nights,  and  measles  and  whoop 
ing  cough,  and  earache  and  sore  throat.  Josie 
put  on  an  old  linen  coat  of  her  father's  and 
"  made  believe"  she  was  the  doctor.  And  oh,  the 
solicitude  when  Victoria  Arabella  lay  at  the  point 
of  death  and  they  had  to  go  round  on  tiptoe  and 
speak  in  whispers,  and  the  poor  mother  said:  "  If 
Victoria  Arabella  dies,  my  heart  will  be  broken!" 
But  the  lovely  child  mended  and  was  so  weak  for 
a  while  that  the  greatest  care  had  to  be  taken  of 
her,  for  she  couldn't  sit  up  a  bit.  And  Hanny 
proposed  they  should  take  her  up  to  Yonkers, 
where  she  could  recruit  in  the  country  air. 
.  Mrs.  Dean  came  up  with  a  basket  and  said  it  was 
supper  time.  She  arranged  a  side  table  to  hold 
some  of  the  things.  There  was  a  nice  white  table 
cloth  and  Josie's  pretty  dishes.  There  was  a  pitcher 
of  hot  water  to  make  cambric  tea,  square  lumps 
of  sugar,  dainty  slices  of  bread  already  spread, 
smoked  beef,  pot-cheese,  raspberries,  cherry-jam, 
and  two  kinds  of  cake.  Well,  it  was  just  splendid. 
Then  they  went  out  on  the  sidewalk  and 
skipped  up  and  down.  There  was  quite  an  art 
in  skipping  gracefully  without  breaking  step. 
When  they  were  warm  and  tired  they  came  in, 
and  Mr.  Dean  played  on  the  piano  for  them. 
6 


82      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

At  seven  o'clock  Mr.  Underbill  walked  up  for 
his  little  girl,  whose  cheeks  were  pink  and  her 
eyes  shining  like  stars.  He  sat  on  the  stoop  and 
talked  a  little  while  with  Mr.  Dean,  and  said 
most  cordially  the  other  girls  must  come  and  take 
tea  with  Hanny.  And  if  they  liked  he  would 
take  them  out  driving  some  day.  That  was  a 
most  delightful  proposal. 

Jim  let  the  whole  school  know  the  next  week 
that  his  "  big  brother"  had  won  a  prize  of  one 
hundred  dollars.  And  when  Joseph  passed  with 
honor  and  took  his  degree,  they  were  all  proud 
enough  of  him. 

"  Mother,"  said  the  little  girl  after  much  con 
sideration,  "  if  any  of  us  get  sick  will  we  have  to 
pay  Joe  like  a  truly  doctor?" 

"Well  —  why  not?"  asked  Mrs.  Underbill, 
"  That  will  be  his  way  of  earning  his  living." 

The  little  girl  drew  a  long  breath.  "  He  might 
come  and  live  with  us  then.  Where  will  he  live, 
anyway?" 

"  He  is  to  practise  in  the  hospital  awhile. " 

"Couldn't  he  doctor  us  at  all?"  she  asked  in 
surprise? 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  might  if  we  had  faith  in  him,"  re 
turned  her  mother  laughingly. 

That  puzzled  the  little  girl  a  good  deal,  and 
when  she  had  an  opportunity  she  asked  her 
father  if  he  had  faith  in  Joe. 


GIRLS  AND  GIRLS  83 

"Well,"  her  father  seemed  to  hesitate,  "he 
might  doctor  Tabby,  but  I  wouldn't  let  him  ex 
periment  on  Dobbin  or  Prince." 

Hanny's  face  was  a  study  in  gravity  and  disap 
pointment.  "  And  if  /  was  sick?"  she  ventured 
with  a  very  long  sigh. 

Then  her  father  hugged  her  up  in  his  arms 
until  she  was  breathless,  and  scrubbed  her  soft 
little  face  with  his  whiskers,  and  both  of  them 
laughed.  But  Joe  promised  one  day  when  he  was 
home  to  doctor  her  for  nothing,  so  that  point  was 
settled. 

They  had  a  great  time  Fourth  of  July.  Lamb 
and  green  peas  were  the  regulation  dinner.  Steve 
sent  a  wagon  up  every  morning  with  the  freshest 
vegetables  there  were  in  market,  and  the  meat 
for  the  day.  Their  milk  came  from  the  Odells  in 
West  Farms,  and  their  butter  from  Yonkers.  To 
be  sure,  it  wasn't  quite  like  country  living,  and 
Mrs.  Underhill  was  positive  that  no  one  gave 
such  a  flavor  to  butter  as  herself. 

The  Odells  and  some  other  relatives  were  down 
on  Fourth  of  July.  They  had  the  lamb  and  peas, 
as  I  said,  and  at  that  date  one  kind  of  meat  was 
considered  enough.  They  had  green-apple  pie. 
There  was  a  very  early  pie-apple  on  the  farm  and 
George  had  brought  some  down  for  his  mother. 
He  was  well  and  happy  as  he  could  be  "  without 
the  folks,"  and  he  shook  his  head  a  little  ambig- 


84      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

uously  about  Uncle  Faid's  method,  and  those  of 
Mr.  Finch. 

They  had  some  ice-cream  and  cake  afterward. 
The  little  girl  had  never  eaten  any,  and  she 
thought  it  very  queer.  It  would  have  been  de 
lightful  but  for  the  awful  coldness  of  it !  It  froze 
the  roof  of  her  mouth  and  made  an  ache  in  the 
middle  of  her  forehead.  Steve  told  her  people 
sometimes  warmed  it,  and  she  ran  out  to  the  stove 
with  her  saucer. 

"The  land  alive!  What  are  you  going  to  do 
with  that  cream?"  almost  shrieked  Martha,  who 
was  washing  dishes  at  the  sink. 

"Warm  it,"  replied  the  little  girl.  "It's  so 
cold." 

Martha  almost  fell  into  a  chair  with  the  dish 
cloth  in  her  hand,  and  laughed  as  if  she  would 
have  a  fit.  There  was  a  suspicious  sound  from 
the  dining-room  as  well,  and  the  fair  little  face 
grew  very  red. 

Steve  came  out. 

"  Here,  Nannie,  is  mine  that  the  weather  has 
warmed,  and  I'll  trade  it  for  your  peak  of  Green 
land.  "  He  took  the  chunk  out  of  her  saucer,  and 
poured  the  soft  in. 

"It  is  nicer,"  she  said.  "And  you  needn't 
laugh,  Martha.  When  I  am  a  big  woman  and 
make  ice-cream  I  shall  just  boil  it,"  and  she 
walked  back  with  grave  dignity. 


GIRLS  AND  GIRLS  85 

She  took  the  Odell  girls  to  Mrs.  Dean's,  and 
some  other  children  flocked  around  the  stoop. 
They  had  torpedoes  and  lady-crackers,  that  two 
children  pulled,  when  they  went  off  with  a  loud 
explosion  in  the  middle  and  made  you  jump. 
There  were  real  fire-crackers  that  the  boys  had, 
and  pin-wheels  and  various  simple  fireworks. 
But  the  great  thing  would  be  going  down  to  City 
Hall  in  the  evening  and  seeing  the  fireworks 
there. 

The  Odells  could  not  stay,  to  their  sorrow.  Mr. 
Underhill  proposed  to  take  the  business  wagon 
and  put  three  seats  in  it,  and  ask  the  Deans  to  go 
with  them.  Mrs.  Dean  was  very  glad  to  accept 
for  herself  and  the  children.  There  was  a  young 
lady  next  door,  Miss  Weir,  that  Margaret  liked 
very  much,  and  she  accompanied  them.  John 
had  promised  to  take  charge  of  the  boys.  Steve 
had  dressed  himself  in  his  new  light  summer  suit 
and  gone  off. 

The  little  girl  thought  the  display  beyond  any 
words  at  her  command.  Such  mysterious  rockets 
falling  to  pieces  in  stars  of  every  color.  There 
was  a  great  dome  of  stars,  and  rays  that  presently 
shot  up  into  heaven;  there  was  a  ship  on  fire, 
which  really  frightened  her.  And,  oh !  the  noise 
and  the  people,  the  shouting  and  hurrahing,  the 
houses  trimmed  with  flags,  the  brass  band  that 
played  all  the  patriotic  songs,  and  the  endless 


8£      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

confusion!  The  little  girl  clung  closely  to  her 
mother,  glad  she  was  not  down  on  the  sidewalk, 
for  the  people  would  surely  have  trodden  on  her. 

They  came  home  very  tired.  But  the  little  girl 
had  added  to  her  stock  of  historical  knowledge 
and  knew  what  Fourth  of  July  stood  for.  It  was 
a  very  great  day,  the  beginning  of  the  Republic. 

The  boys  were  out  early  the  next  morning  find 
ing  "cissers,"  crackers  that  had  failed  to  burn  out 
entirely,  and  still  had  a  little  explosive  merit 
when  touched  by  a  piece  of  lighted  punk.  There 
was  no  school  that  day,  and  Steve  took  them  up 
to  West  Farms  to  expend  the  rest  of  their  hilarity. 
The  little  girl  was  pale  and  languid.  Mrs.  Under 
bill  was  quite  troubled  at  times  when  friends 
said: 

"  Isn't  Hanny  very  small  of  her  age?  Is  she 
real  strong?  She  looks  so  delicate. " 

This  was  why  she  had  thought  it  best  not  to 
send  her  to  school  this  summer.  She  read  aloud 
to  her  mother  and  said  one  column  in  a  speller 
and  definer,  and  Margaret  taught  her  a  little 
geography  and  arithmetic.  She  could  hem  very 
nicely  now.  She  had  learned  to  knit  lace,  and  do 
some  fancy  work  that  was  then  called  lap  stitch 
ing.  You  pulled  out  some  threads  one  way  of  the 
cloth,  then  took  three  and  just  lapped  them  over 
the  next  three,  drawing  your  needle  and  thread 
through.  Now  a  machine  does  it  beautifully. 


GIRLS  AND  GIRLS  87 

There  was  another  fashion,  "  fads"  we  should 
call  them  nowadays.  A  school-bag- — they  didn't 
call  them  satchels  then — was  made  of  a  piece  of 
blue  and  white  bed-ticking,  folded  at  the  bottom. 
Every  white  stripe  you  worked  with  zephyr 
worsted  in  briar  stitch  or  herring-bone  or  feather 
stitch.  You  could  use  one  color  or  several.  And 
now  the  old  work  and  the  bed-ticking  has  come 
back  again  and  ladies  make  the  old-fashioned 
bags  with  tinsel  thread. 

Margaret  had  made  one,  and  the  little  girl  had 
taken  it  up.  She  was  quite  an  expert  with  her 
needle.  She  had  found  several  delightful  new 
books  to  read.  The  Deans  had  some  wonderful 
fairy  stories.  She  was  enraptured  with  the 
"Lady  of  the  Lake,"  and  some  of  Mrs.  Hewitt's 
stories  and  poems.  She  had  learned  her  way 
about,  and  could  go  out  to  the  Bowery  to  do  an 
errand  for  her  mother.  She  knew  some  more  lit 
tle  girls,  and  with  her  sewing,  helping  her  mother, 
studying  and  reading  and  play,  the  days  seemed 
too  short. 

Vacation  did  not  begin  until  the  ist  of  August. 
The  boys  were  to  go  up  to  Yonkers  and  help 
George  and  Uncle  Faid.  They  were  quite  ready 
for  new  ventures. 

When  Margaret  came  home  the  last  day  of 
school  with  a  really  fine  report,  her  mother  felt 
quite  proud  of  her.  The  little  girl,  with  large 


88      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

eyes  and  a  mysterious  expression,  begged  her  to 
come  into  the  parlor  and  see  something.  She 
smiled  and  took  Hanny's  small  hand  in  hers. 
The  furniture  had  been  moved  about  a  little. 
And  oh,  what  was  this?  The  little  girl's  eyes 
were  stars  of  joy. 

"It's  your  piano  and  mine,"  she  said. 
"  Yours  till  you  get  married  and  go  away,  and 
then  mine  forever  and  ever.  Joe  gave  fifty  dol 
lars  of  his  prize  money  toward  it.  Wasn't  he 
lovely?  And  oh,  Margaret,  such  beautiful  music 
as  it  makes!" 

The  little  girl  with  one  small  finger  struck  a 
key.  The  sound  seemed  to  fascinate  her.  Mar 
garet  caught  her  in  her  arms  and  kissed  the  en 
raptured  face. 

"We  shall  be  too  happy,  I'm  afraid.  I 
shouldn't  have  had  the  courage  to  ask  for  a 
piano,  but  it's  the  one  thing  above  all  others  that 
I  have  wanted.  Oh,  it's  just  too  delightful!" 

Mrs.  Underhill  said:  "It's  a  great  piece  of 
wastefulness,  but  the  boys  would  have  it.  I'm 
sure  I  don't  see  where  you're  going  to  get  time 
to  learn  everything.  And  you '11  never  know  any 
thing  about  housekeeping.  I  should  be  ashamed 
to  have  any  one  marry  you. " 

People  didn't  hustle  off  to  the  country  the  day 
school  closed.  Indeed,  some  didn't  go  at  all. 
The  children  played  on  the  shady  side  of  the 


GIRLS  AND  GIRLS  89 

street.  The  little  girls  had  "  Ring  around  a  rosy," 
that  I  think  Eve's  grandchildren  must  have  in 
vented.  Then  there  was  "  London  Bridge  is  fall- 
ing  down,"  "Open  the  gates  as  high  as  the  sky," 

and 

"  Here  come  two  lords  quite  out  of  Spain 
A-courting  for  your  daughter  faire," 

and  after  a  great  deal  of  disputing  and  beseeching 
they  obtained  "daughter  faire,"  and  averted  war. 
And  "Tag"  never  failed  with  its  "Ana  mana 
mona  mike."  You  find  children  playing  them 
all  yet,  but  I  think  the  wonderful  zest  has  gone 
out  of  them. 

In  the  evening  a  throng  of  the  First  Street  chil 
dren  who  had  pennies  to  spend  used  to  go  up  to 
the  corner  of  Second  Street  and  Avenue  A.  An 
old  colored  woman  sat  there,  with  a  gay  Madras 
turban,  and  a  little  table  before  her,  that  had  a 
mysterious  spring  drawer.  On  one  side  she  had 
an  earthen  jar,  on  the  other  a  great  pail  with  a 
white  cloth  over  it,  that  emitted  a  steamy  fra 
grance.  And  she  sang  in  a  sort  of  chanting 
tone: 

"  H-o-t  corn,  hot  corn.  Here's  your  nice  hot 
corn,  s-m-okin*  h-o-t.  B-a-ked  pears,  baked  pears 
— Get  away,  chillen,'  get  away,  'les  you've  got  a 
penny.  Stop  crowdin'." 

They  had  enough  to  eat  at  home,  but  the  corn 
was  tempting.  One  night  one  boy  would  treat 


90      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

and  break  the  ear  of  corn  in  two  and  divide.  And 
the  baked  pears  were  simply  delicious.  The  old 
woman  fished  them  out  with  a  fork  and  put  them 
on  a  bit  of  paper.  Wooden  plates  had  not  been 
invented.  And  the  high  art  was  to  lift  up  your 
pear  "by  the  stem  and  eat  it.  Sometimes  a  mis 
chievous  companion  would  joggle  your  arm  and 
the  stem  would  come  out — and  oh,  the  pear  would 
drop  in  a  "  mash"  on  the  sidewalk.  You  could 
not  divide  the  pear  very  well,  though  children 
did  sometimes  pass  a  "bite"  around.  But  we 
lived  in  happy  innocence  and  safety,  for  the 
deadly  bacillus  had  not  been  invented  and  igno 
rance  was  bliss. 


Cbapter 

MISS    BOLLY    BEEKMAN. 

IT  seemed  curiously  still  after  the  boys  went 
away.  Margaret  took  two  music  lessons  a  week 
and  gave  the  little  girl  half  a  one.  And  one  day 
Stephen  came  in  and  said: 

"  Go  dress  yourself,  Dinah,  in  gorgeous  array, 
And  I'll  take  you  a-drivin'  so  galliant  and  gay." 

"  Both  of  us?"  asked  the  little  girl. 

"  Yes — both  of  us.  I  have  my  new  buggy  and 
silver-mounted  harness.  You  must  go  out  and 
christen  it  for  good  luck.  Hurry,  Peggy,  and  put 
on  your  white  dress." 

Miss  Blackfan  had  been  again  and  made  them 
two  white  frocks  apiece.  The  little  girl  had 
"wings"  over  her  shoulders  and  they  made  her 
less  slim.  She  wore  a  pink  sash  and  her  hair  was 
tied  with  pink.  Her  stockings  were  as  white  as 
"the  driven  snow,"  and  her  slippers  looked  like 
dolls'  wear.  They  were  bronze  and  laced  across 
the  top  several  times  with  narrow  ribbon  tied  in 
a  bow  at  her  instep.  She  had  a  new  hat,  too,  a 
leghorn  flat  with  pale  pink  roses  on  it.  It  cost  a 


92      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

good  deal,  but  then  it  would  "  do  up"  every  sum 
mer  and  last  years  and  years.  Fashions  didn't 
change  every  three  months  then.  Margaret  had 
a  pretty  gipsy  hat,  with  a  big  light-blue  satin  bow 
on  the  top,  and  the  strings  tied  under  her  chin, 
and  it  made  quite  a  picture  of  her.  Her  sleeves 
came  a  little  below  the  elbow,  and  both  wore 
black  silk  "  open-work"  mitts  that  came  half-way 
up  the  arm. 

There  had  been  a  shower  the  night  before  and 
the  dust  was  laid.  They  went  over  Second  Street 
to  the  East  River,  where  one  or  two  blocks  were 
quite  given  over  to  colored  people.  There  was 
an  African  M.  E.  church,  that  the  little  girl  was 
very  curious  to  see.  Folks  said  in  revival  times 
they  danced  for  joy.  Crowds  used  to  go  to  hear 
the  singing. 

"  But  do  they  dance?"  asked  the  little  girl  won- 
deringly.  She  couldn't  quite  reconcile  it  with 
the  gravity  of  worship. 

"  They  simply  march  up  and  down  the  aisles 
keeping  time  to  the  tunes.  Well — the  Shakers 
dance  in  the  same  fashion."  Stephen  had  been 
up  to  Lebanon. 

Then  a  little  farther  on  was  another  Methodist 
church,  where  several  notable  lights  had  preached. 
Nearer  the  river  were  some  queer  old  houses,  and 
at  almost  every  corner  a  store.  Saloons  were  a 
rarity.  Over  yonder  was  Williamsburg,  up  a  lit- 


MISS  DOLLY  BEEKMAN  93 

tie  farther  Astoria,  just  a  place  of  country  green 
ery.  There  were  a  few  boats  going  up  and  down, 
and  the  ferry-boats  crossing. 

The  houses  were  no  longer  in  rows.  There 
were  some  vegetable  gardens,  and  German  women 
were  weeding  in  them;  then  tracts  of  rather 
rocky  land,  wild  and  unimproved.  After  a  while 
it  began  to  grow  more  diversified  and  beautiful 
— country  residences  and  well-kept  grounds  full  of 
shrubbery  at  the  front  and  vegetables  in  the  rear, 
with  barns  and  stables,  betraying  a  rural  aspect. 
The  air  was  so  sweet  and  fresh. 

"  Oh !"  exclaimed  Margaret,  "  Annette  Beekman 
must  live  somewhere  about  here.  I  promised  her 
we  would  come  up  some  day. " 

Stephen  turned  into  a  country  road.  There 
were  many  grand  old  elms,  hemlocks,  pines,  and 
fruit-trees  as  well.  A  table  stood  under  one,  and 
some  ladies  were  sitting  there  sewing  and  chatting, 
while  several  children  ran  about.  And  while  they 
were  glancing  at  them  a  girl  in  a  pretty  blue  muslin 
sprang  up  and  ran  down  to  the  wide-open  gate. 

"Oh,  Margaret!"  cried  Annette  Beekman. 
"  Why,  this  is  lovely  of  you,  Stephen!  Can't  you 
turn  in  and  stop  a  while  with  us?" 

"  I'm  showing  Margaret  New  York,"  said  Steve, 
with  his  pleasant  laugh.  "  She  has  begun  to  think 
straight  down  to  Rutgers  Institute  comprised 
every  bit  there  was  of  it." 


94      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"Oh,  Stephen!"  deprecatingly. 

Some  one  else  came  out ;  a  fair,  tall  girl  with 
great  braids  of  flaxen  hair  and  a  silver  comb  in 
the  top  to  make  her  look  taller  still.  She  smiled 
very  sweetly. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Underbill!"  she  exclaimed. 

"This  is  my  big  sister  and  this  is  my  little  one," 
explained  Stephen.  "And  this,"  to  Margaret, 
"is  Miss  Dolly  Beekman." 

A  warm  color  rose  in  Margaret's  cheeks  as  a 
half-suspicion  stole  over  her. 

"  You  must  get  out  and  rest  a  while  after  this 
long  ride,"  said  Miss  Dolly  with  winsome  cordial 
ity.  "  The  rain  last  evening  was  delightful,  but 
the  day  is  warm.  We  are  all  living  out-of-doors, 
as  you  see.  And  this,  I  suppose,  is  your  little 
sister?  Drive  up  and  help  the  girls  out,  and  then 
go  round  to  the  barn.  You  will  find  some  one 
there. " 

Stephen  wound  slowly  up  the  driveway,  nod 
ding  to  the  group  of  ladies.  Dolly  walked  along 
the  grassy  path.  She  wore  a  white  dotted  suisse 
gown  with  a  "baby  waist,"  and  had  a  blue  satin 
sash  with  ends  that  fell  nearly  to  the  bottom  of 
the  skirt.  Her  sleeves  came  to  the  elbow  and 
were  composed  of  three  rather  deep  ruffles  edged 
with  lace.  Round  her  pretty  white  neck  she  had 
an  inch-wide  black  velvet,  fastened  with  a  tiny 
diamond  that  Stephen  had  brought  her  a  week 


MISS  DOLLY  BEEKMAN  95 

ago.  She  looked  like  a  picture,  Margaret  thought, 
and  later  her  portrait  in  costume  was  exhibited  at 
the  Academy  of  Design. 

Stephen  lifted  his  sisters  down.  Dolly  took 
Margaret's  arm  and  the  little  girl's  hand  and  in 
troduced  them  to  almost  as  many  sisters  and 
cousins  and  aunts  as  there  were  in  "Pinafore." 
The  small  person  was  not  quite  comfortable.  She 
had  a  feeling  that  the  back  of  her  nice  frock  was 
dreadfully  crushed.  Margaret  was  a  little  con 
fused.  Stephen  seemed  so  at  home  among  them 
all.  Annette  had  spoken  so  familiarly  of  him, 
yet  she  had  not  suspected.  How  blind  she  had 
been! 

There  was  young  Mrs.  Beekman,  thirty  or  so, 
already  getting  stout,  and  with  the  fifth  Beekman 
boy  that  she  would  gladly  have  changed  for  a 
girl ;  Mrs.  Bond,  the  next  sister,  with  a  boy  and 
a  girl;  Aunt  Gitty  Beekman,  some  Vandewater 
cousins,  and  some  Gessler  cousins  from  Nyack. 

They  had  rush-bottomed  and  splint  chairs,  sev 
eral  rockers,  some  rustic  benches,  and  two  or 
three  tables  standing  about,  with  work-baskets 
and  piles  of  sewing  or  knitting,  for  people  had 
not  outgrown  industry  in  those  days,  and  still 
taught  their  children  the  verses  about  the  busy 
bee. 

Dolly  put  Margaret  in  a  rocker,  untied  her 
bonnet,  and  took  off  her  soft  white  mull  scarf — 


5)6      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

long  shawls  they  were  called,  and  the  elder  ladies 
wore  them  of  black  silk  and  handsome  black  lace. 
They  were  held  up  on  the  arms  and  sometimes 
tied  carelessly,  and  the  richer  you  were,  the  more 
handsomely  you  trimmed  them  at  the  ends. 
Then  for  cooler  weather  there  were  Paisley  and 
India  long  shawls. 

Hanny  kept  close  to  her  sister  and  leaned 
against  her  knee.  She  felt  strange  and  timid 
with  the  eyes  of  so  many  grown  people  upon  her. 
But  they  all  took  up  their  work  and  talked,  asking 
Margaret  various  questions  in  sociable  fashion. 

There  were  three  Beekman  boys  and  one  little 
Bond  running  about.  The  girl  was  very  shy  and 
would  sit  on  her  mother's  lap.  The  Beekmans 
were  fat  and  chubby,  with  their  hair  cut  quite 
close,  but  not  in  the  modern  extreme.  They 
wore  long  trousers  and  roundabouts,  and  low 
shoes  with  light  gray  stockings,  though  their 
Sunday  best  were  white.  We  should  say  now 
they  looked  very  queer,  and  unmistakably  Dutch. 
You  sometimes  see  this  attire  among  the  new 
immigrants.  But  there  were  no  little  Fauntleroy 
boys  at  that  period  with  their  velvet  jackets  and 
knickerbockers,  flowing  curls  and  collars. 

The  boys  tried  to  inveigle  Hanny  among  them. 
Pety  offered  her  the  small  wooden  bench  he  was 
carrying  round.  Paulus  asked  her  "  to  come  and 
see  Molly  who  had  great  big  horns  and  went  this 


MISS  DOLLY  BEEKMAN  97 

way,"  brandishing  his  head  so  fiercely  that  the 
little  girl  shuddered  and  grasped  Margaret's  hand. 

"  Don't  tease  her,  boys,"  entreated  their  mother. 
"  She'll  get  acquainted  by  and  by.  I  suppose  she 
isn't  much  used  to  children,  being  the  youngest?" 

"No,  ma'am,"  answered  Margaret. 

The  boys  scampered  off.  Annette  knelt  down 
on  the  short  grass,  and  presently  won  a  smile  from 
the  little  girl,  who  was  revolving  a  perplexity  as 
to  whether  big  boys  were  not  a  great  deal  nicer 
than  little  boys.  Then  Stephen  came  back  and 
Mr.  Paulus  Beekman,  who  was  stout  and  dark,  and 
favored  his  mother's  side  of  the  family.  The 
ladies  were  ve'ry  jolly,  teasing  one  another,  telling 
bits  of  fun,  comparing  work,  and  exchanging  cook 
ing  recipes.  Miss  Gitty  asked  Margaret  about 
her  mother's  family,  the  Vermilyeas.  A  Miss 
Vermilye,  sixty  or  seventy  years  ago,  had  married 
a  Conklin  and  come  over  to  Closter.  She  seemed 
to  have  all  her  family  genealogy  at  her  tongue's 
end,  and  knew  all  the  relations  to  the  third  and 
fourth  generation.  But  she  had  a  rather  sweet 
face  with  fine  wrinkles  and  blue  veins,  and  wore 
her  hair  in  long  ringlets  at  the  sides,  fastened 
with  shell  combs  that  had  been  her  mother's,  and 
were  very  dear  to  her.  She  wore  a  light  change 
able  silk,  and  it  still  had  big  sleeves,  such  as  we 
are  wearing  to-day.  But  they  had  mostly  gone 
out.  And  the  elder  ladies  were  combing  their 
7 


98      A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

hair  down  over  their  ears.  There  were  no  crimp- 
ing-pins,  so  they  had  to  braid  it  up  at  night  in 
"  tails"  to  make  it  wave,  unless  one  had  curly  hair. 
Most  of  the  young  girls  brushed  it  straight  above 
their  ears  for  ordinary  wear,  and  braided  or 
twisted  it  in  a  great  coil  at  the  back,  though  it 
was  often  elaborately  dressed  for  parties. 

Aunt  Gitty  was  netting  a  shawl  out  of  white 
zephyr.  It  was  tied  in  the  same  manner  that  one 
makes  fish-nets,  and  you  used  a  little  shuttle  on 
which  your  thread  was  wound.  It  was  very  light 
and  fleecy.  Aunt  Gitty  had  made  one  of  silk  for 
a  cousin  who  was  going  abroad,  and  it  had  been 
very  much  admired.  The  little  girl  was  greatly 
interested  in  this,  and  ventured  on  an  attempt  at 
friendliness. 

Dolly  took  them  away  presently  to  show  them 
the  flower-beds.  Mr.  Beekman  had  ten  acres  of 
ground.  There  were  vegetables,  corn  and  potato 
fields  and  a  pasture  lot,  beside  the  great  lawn  and 
flower-garden.  Old  Mr.  Beekman  was  out  there. 
He  was  past  seventy  now,  hale  and  hearty  to  be 
sure,  with  a  round,  wrinkled  face,  and  thick  white 
hair,  and  he  was  passionately  fond  of  his  grand 
children.  He  had  not  married  until  he  was  forty 
and  his  wife  was  much  younger. 

There  were  long  walks  of  dahlias  of  every  color 
and  kind.  They  were  a  favorite  autumn  flower. 
A  great  round  bed  of  "Robin-run-away,"  berga- 


MISS  DOLLY  BEEKMAN  99 

mot,  that  scented  the  air  and  attracted  the  hum 
ming-birds.  All  manner  of  old-fashioned  flowers 
that  are  coming  around  again,  and  you  could  see 
where  there  had  been  magnificent  beds  of  peonies. 
In  the  early  season  people  drove  out  here  to  see 
Peter  Beekman's  tulip-beds. 

There  were  borders  of  artemisias,  as  they  were 
called,  that  diffused  a  pungent  fragrance.  We 
had  not  shaken  hands  so  neighborly  with  Japan 
then,  nor  learned  how  she  evolved  her  wonderful 
chrysanthemums. 

The  little  girl  grew  quite  talkative  with  Mr. 
Beekman.  You  see,  in  those  days  there  was  a 
theory  about  children  being  seen  and  not  heard, 
and  no  one  expected  a  little  six-year-old  to  enter 
tain  or  disturb  a  room  full  of  company.  The  re 
pression  made  them  rather  diffident",  to  be  sure. 
But  Mr.  Beekman  gathered  her  a  nosegay  of  spice 
pinks,  carnations  now,  and  took  her  to  see  his 
beautiful  ducks,  snowy  white,  in  a  little  pond, 
and  another  pair  of  Muscovy  ducks,  then  some 
rare  Mandarin  ducks  from  China.  She  told  him 
about  the  ducks  and  chickens  at  Yonkers  and  how 
sorry  she  was  to  leave  them. 

And  then  came  the  handsome  white  Angora  cat 
with  its  long  fur  and  curious  eyes  that  were  almost 
blue,  and  when  she  said  "  mie-e-o-u"  in  a  rather  de 
lighted  tone,  it  seemed  as  if  she  meant  "  O  master, 
where  have  you  been?  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you!" 


ioo    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

He  stood  and  patted  her  and  they  held  quite  a 
conversation  as  she  arched  her  neck,  rubbed 
against  his  leg,  and  turned  back  and  forth.  Then 
she  stretched  way  up  on  him  and  gave  him  her 
paw,  which  was  very  cunningly  done. 

"  This  is  a  nice  little  girl  who  has  come  to  see 
me,"  he  said,  as  she  seemed  to  look  inquiringly 
at  Hanny.  "  She's  fond  of  everything,  kitties 
especially. " 

Kitty  looked  rather  uncertain.  Hanny  was  a 
little  afraid  of  such  a  curious  creature.  But  pres 
ently  she  came  and  rubbed  against  her  with  a  soft 
little  mew,  and  Hanny  ventured  to  touch  her. 

"She  likes  you,"  declared  old  Mr.  Beekman, 
much  pleased.  "  She  doesn't  often  take  fancies. 
She  loves  Dolly,  and  she  won't  have  anything  to 
do  with  Annette,  though  I  think  the  girl  teases 
her.  Nice  Katschina,"  said  her  master,  patting 
her.  "  Shall  we  buy  this  little  girl?" 

Perhaps  you  won't  believe  it,  but  Katschina 
really  said  "  yes,"  and  smiled.  It  was  very  differ 
ent  from  the  grin  of  the  "  Chessy  cat"  that  Alice 
saw  in  Wonderland. 

Some  one  came  flying  down  the  path. 

"Father,"  exclaimed  Dolly,"  come  and  have  a 
cup  of  tea  or  a  glass  of  beer.  Stephen  and  his 
sister  think  they  can't  stay  to  supper.  But  may 
be  they'll  leave  the  little  girl — you  seem  to  have 
taken  such  a  notion  to  her. " 


MISS  DOLLY  BEEKMAN  101 

Hanny  didn't  want  to  be  impolite  and  she  really 
did  like  Mr.  Beekman,  but  as  for  staying — her 
heart  was  up  in  her  throat. 

Dolly  picked  up  Katschina  and  carried  her  in 
triumph.  Two  white  paws  lay  over  Dolly's 
shoulder. 

There  was  a  table  with  a  shining  copper  tea 
kettle,  a  pewter  tankard  of  home-brewed  ale, 
bread  and  butter,  cold  chicken  and  ham,  a  great 
dish  of  curd  cheese,  pound  cake,  soft  and  yellow, 
fruit  cake,  a  heaping  dish  of  doughnuts  and  vari 
ous  cookies  and  seed  cakes.  Scipio,  a  young  col 
ored  lad,  passed  the  eatables.  Young  Mrs.  Beek 
man  poured  the  tea.  The  mother  sat  near  her. 
She  was  short  and  fat  and  wore  her  hair  in  a  high 
Pompadour  roll,  and  she  laughed  a  good  deal, 
showing  her  fine  white  teeth  of  which  she  was 
very  proud. 

Katschina  sat  in  her  master's  lap,  and  the  little 
girl  was  beside  him.  The  boys  were  given  their 
hands  full  and  sent  away.  It  was  a  very  pretty 
picture  and  the  little  girl  felt  as  if  she  was  reading 
an  entertaining  story.  One  of  the  Gessler  cousins 
had  been  knitting  lace,  double  oak-leaf  with  a 
heading  of  insertion.  It  looked  marvellous  to  the 
little  girl.  She  said  she  was  making  it  to  trim  a 
visite.  This  was  a  Frenchy  sort  of  garment 
lately  come  into  vogue,  though  the  little  girl  did 
not  know  what  it  was,  and  was  too  well  trained 


102    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

to  ask  questions.  But  the  lace  might  be  the  de 
sire  of  one's  heart. 

They  sipped  their  tea  or  raspberry  shrub,  or 
enjoyed  a  glass  of  ale.  They  were  all  very  merry. 
The  little  girl  wondered  how  Dolly  dared  to  be  so 
saucy  with  Stephen  when  she  only  knew  him  such 
a  little.  Mrs.  Beekman  could  hardly  accept  the 
fact  that  they  would  not  stay  to  supper,  and  said 
they  must  come  soon  and  spend  the  day,  and  have 
Stephen  drive  up  for  them,  and  that  she  hoped 
soon  to  see  Mrs.  Underbill.  "  It  is  quite  delight 
ful  and  we  are  all  well  satisfied,"  she  added,  nod 
ding  rather  mysteriously. 

Dolly  put  on  the  little  girl's  hat  and  kissed  her, 
giving  her  a  breathless  squeeze.  Miss  Gitty 
kissed  her  as  well  and  told  her  she  was  a  "  very 
pretty  behaved  child."  The  buggy  came  round 
and  Stephen  put  them  in  amid  a  chorus  of  good- 
bys. 

"The  little  one  looks  delicate,"  commented  the 
younger  Mrs.  Beekman  when  they  had  driven 
away.  "I'm  afraid  she  doesn't  run  and  play 
enough.  But  she's  beautifully  behaved.  And 
what  a  fancy  father  took  to  her!" 

"  Miss  Underbill  doesn't  seem  like  a  real  coun 
try  girl,"  said  another. 

"  The  Underbills  are  a  good  family  all  through. 
English  descent  from  some  Lord  Underbill. 
They  were  staunch  Royalists  at  one  time." 


MISS  DOLLY  BEEKMAN  103 

"And  the  Vermilyeas  are  good  stock,"  said 
Aunt  Gitty.  "  There's  nothing  like  being  partic 
ular  as  to  family.  It  tells  in  the  long  run." 

"Well,  Dolly,  we  think  he  will  do,"  said  Mrs. 
Beekman  laughingly,  as  Dolly,  having  said  her 
good-bys,  sauntered  back  to  the  circle.  "  He 
might  be  richer,  of  course.  There's  a  large 
family  and  they  can't  have  much  apiece." 

"  Stephen  Underbill's  got  the  making  of  a  good 
substantial  man  in  him,"  grunted  father  Beek 
man.  "  If  he'd  been  a  poor  shoat  he  wouldn't 
have  hung  around  here  very  long,  would  he, 
Katschina?  We'd  'a  put  a  flea  in  his  ear, 
wouldn't  we." 

Katschina  arched  her  back.  Dolly  laughed 
and  blushed.  Stephen  was  her  own  true-love 
anyway,  but  she  was  glad  to  have  them  all  like 
him.  With  the  insistence  of  youth  she  felt  she 
never  could  have  loved  any  other  man. 

Stephen  clicked  to  Prince,  who  was  rested  and 
full  of  spirits.  They  drove  almost  straight  across 
the  city,  about  at  the  end  of  our  first  hundred 
numbered  streets.  But  the  road  wound  around 
to  get  out  of  a  low  marshy  place,  a  pond  in  the 
rainy  season,  and  some  rocks  that  seemed  tumbled 
up  on  end.  They  struck  a  bit  of  the  old  Boston 
Post  Road,  and  that  caused  the  little  girl  to  stop 
her  prattle  and  think  of  the  old  ladies  they  had 
never  visited.  She  must  "jog"  her  father's  mem- 


104    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

ory.  That  was  what  her  mother  always  said 
when  she  recalled  half-forgotten  things. 

Stephen  and  Margaret  had  only  spoken  in  an 
swer  to  the  little  girl.  He  had  a  young  man's 
awkwardness  concerning  a  subject  so  dear  to  his 
heart.  Margaret  was  awed  by  the  mystery  of 
love,  captivated  by  Dolly's  friendliness,  and  puz 
zled  to  decide  what  her  mother  would  think  of  it. 
Stephen  married !  Any  of  them  married  for  that 
matter.  How  strange  it  would  seem !  And  yet 
she  had  sometimes  said,  "When  I  am  married." 

The  place  was  wild  enough.  You  would  hardly 
think  so  now  when  hollows  have  been  filled  and 
hills  levelled,  and  rocks  blasted  away.  After  they 
turned  a  little  stream  wound  in  and  out  through 
the  trees  and  bushes.  Amid  a  tangled  mass  the 
little  girl  espied  some  wild  roses. 

"  Oh,  Steve!"  she  cried,  " may  I  get  oi:t  and  pick 
some?" 

"I  will."  He  handed  the  reins  over  to  Mar 
garet  and  sprang  down,  running  across  a  little 
bridge,  and  soon  gathered  a  great  handful. 

"  Oh,  thank  you,"  and  her  eyes  shone.  "  What 
a  funny  little  bridge. " 

"That's  Kissing  Bridge." 

"Who  do  you  have  to  kiss?"  asked  the  little 
girl  mirthfully. 

"  Well,  a  long  while  ago,  in  Van  Twiller's  time, 
I  guess,"  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye,  "there  wasn't 


MISS  DOLLY  BEEKMAN  105 

any  bridge.  The  lovers  used  to  carry  *:lieir 
sweethearts  over,  and  the  charge  was  a  kiss." 

"  But  there  wasn't  any  kissing  bridge  then,"  she 
said  shrewdly. 

"  When  the  bridge  was  built  they  stopped  and 
kissed  out  of  remembrance." 

"  Was  it  really  so,  Margaret?" 

"  It  has  been  called  that  ever  since  I  can  re 
member." 

"  You  unkind  girl,  not  to  believe  me !"  exclaimed 
Stephen,  with  an  air  of  offended  dignity.  "  And 
I  am  ever  so  much  older  than  Margaret. " 

"  You  didn't  carry  me  over,  but  you  carried  the 
roses,  so  you  shall  have  the  kiss  all  the  same," 
and  as  she  reached  up  to  his  cheek  they  both 
smiled. 

Then  they  came  down  Broadway  to  Bleecker 
Street,  and  over  home.  Father  Underhill  was 
sitting  on  the  stoop  reading  his  paper.  Jim 
begged  to  take  the  horse  round  to  the  stable. 
Margaret  went  up-stairs  to  pull  off  her  best  dress 
and  put  on  her  pink  gingham.  She  had  just  fin 
ished  and  was  calling  for  Hanny,  when  Stephen 
caught  her  in  his  arms. 

"  Dear  Peggy — you  must  have  guessed." 

"Oh,-  Stephen!  It  seems  so  strange.  Is  Ic 
really  so?  I  never  dreamed " 

"  I  fell  in  love  with  Dolly  months  ago.  There 
were  so  many  caring  for  her  that  I  hardly  hoped 


io6    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

myself.  But  there's  some  mysterious  sense  about 
it,  and  I  began  to  see  presently  that  she  preferred 
me.  Though  I  didn't  really  ask  her  until  Sunday 
night.  And  they  all  consented.  We  are  regu 
larly  engaged  now." 

"  Oh,  Stephen !     To  lose  you !" 

That  is  the  first  natural  thought  of  the  house 
hold. 

"  You  are  not  going  to  lose  me.  We  shall  be 
engaged  a  long  while ;  a  year  surely. " 

"  But,  father — and  our  coming  here." 

"  That  is  all  right.  It  can't  make  any  differ 
ence.  Only  you  will  have  a  new  sister.  Oh, 
Peggy,  try  to  love  her,"  persuasively,  yet  know 
ing  she  could  not  resist  her. 

"  She  is  very  sweet. " 

"Sweet!  She's  just  cream  and  roses  and  all 
the  sweetest  things  of  life  put  together !  I  tell 
you,  Peggy,  I'm  a  lucky  fellow.  Of  course  it  will 
seem  a  little  strange  at  first.  But  some  day  you'll 
have  your  romance,  only  I  don't  believe  you  can 
ever  understand  how  glad  the  other  fellow  will 
be  to  get  you.  Girls  can't.  And  you'll  try  to 
make  things  smooth  with  mother  if  she  feels  a 
little  put  out  at  first?  Dolly  wants  to  love  you 
all.  She's  admired  Joe  so  much,  and  they  are  all 
proud  of  him. " 

The  supper  bell  rang  impatiently.  Stephen 
kissed  his  sister  and  gave  her  a  rapturous  hug. 


MISS  DOLLY  BEEKMAN  107 

Hanny  came  tip-stairs  and  Margaret  hurried 
through  her  change  of  attire. 

"I  thought  you  never  were  coming,"  began 
their  mother  tartly.  "  'Milyer,  you're  the  worst 
of  the  lot  when  you  get  your  nose  buried  in  a 
newspaper.  Boys,  do  keep  still,  though  I  sup 
pose  you're  half  starved,"  with  a  reproachful  look 
at  those  who  had  delayed  the  meal. 

The  little  girl  had  eaten  so  many  of  the  de 
licious  cookies  that  she  wasn't  a  bit  hungry.  So 
she  entertained  her  father  with  the  miles  of 
dahlias  and  the  wonderful  cat,  so  soft  and  furry 
and  different  from  theirs,  and  with  truly  blue 
eyes,  and  who  could  understand  everything  you 
said  to  her.  And  Mr.  Beekman  was  very  nice, 
but  not  as  nice  as  father.  The  little  boys  were 
so  short  and  so  funny.  "  And  I  don't  believe  I 
like  little  boys.  Jim  and  Benny,  Frank  and  all  of 
you  are  nicer.  Perhaps  it  is  the  bigness." 

They  all  laughed  at  that. 

She  sat  in  her  father's  lap  afterward  and  went 
on  with  her  quaint  story,  until  her  mother  came 
and  routed  her  out  and  said,  "I  do  believe,  'Mil 
yer,  you'd  keep  that  child  up  all  night." 

Afterward  Mr.  Underhill  went  out  on  the  front 
stoop,  where  he  and  Stephen  had  a  long  talk, 
while  Margaret  sat  at  the  piano  making  up  for 
her  afternoon's  dissipation,  but  in  the  soft,  vague 
ight  she  could  see  Dolly  Beekman  with  her 


io8    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

laughing  eyes  and  crown  of  shining  hair,  and  was 
sure  she  would  make  a  delightful  sister.  Mrs. 
Underhill  sat  and  darned  stockings  and  sighed  a 
little.  Yet  she  was  secretly  proud  of  Margaret, 
even  if  she  did  study  French  and  music.  Whether 
they  would  ever  help  her  to  keep  house  was  a 
question.  Where  would  she  have  found  time 
for  such  things? 


Cbapter  Seven. 

MISS   LOIS   AND    SIXTY    YEARS   AGO. 

"YES;  come  get  out  once  in  a  while." 

"I've  no  time  to  spare,"  said  Mrs.  Underbill. 
14  Some  one  has  to  work  or  you'd  all  be  in  a  fine 
case.  Here's  Margaret  spending  her  time  drum 
ming  on  the  piano  and  studying  French  and  what 
not.  I  dare  say  you'll  be  called  upon  some  time 
to  take  your  daughter  to  Paris  to  show  off  her 
accomplishments. " 

"I  hope  we'll  do  credit  to  each  other,"  he 
returned  with  a  dry,  humorous  laugh,  as  if 
amused. 

"  The  world  goes  round  so  fast  one  can't  keep 
up  with  it.  If  the  work  only  rushed  on  that  way ! 
Why  don't  some  of  you  smart  men  who  have 
plenty  of  time  to  sit  round,  invent  a  machine  to 
cook  and  sew  and  sweep  the  house?" 

"  Martha's  a  pretty  good  housekeeping  ma 
chine,  I  think.  And  you  might  find  another  to 
sew. " 

She  had  no  idea  that  Elias  Howe  was  hard  at 
work  on  a  tireless  iron  and  steel  sewing- woman 
109 


i  io    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

and  was  puzzling  his  brains  day  and  night  to  put 
an  eye  in  the  needle  that  would  be  satisfactory. 

"  You'd  need  to  be  made  of  money  to  hire  all 
these  folks !  Margaret  ought  to  be  sewing  this 
very  minute,  but  she's  fussing  over  those  draw 
ings  of  John's.  I've  such  a  smart  family  I  think 
they'll  set  me  crazy.  And  what  you  will  do  when 
I  am  gone " 

"We're  not  going  to  let  you  get  away  so  easy. 
And  if  you  would  just  go  out  a  bit  now  and  then. 
Come,  mother,"  with  entreaty  in  his  voice. 

"Oh,  'Milyer,"  she  said,  touched  by  something 
in  the  tone,  "  I  really  can't  go  to-day.  I've  all 
those  shirts  to  cut  out,  and  Miss  Weir  told  me  of 
a  girl  who  would  be  glad  to  come  and  sew  for 
fifty  cents  a  day.  I  think  I'll  have  her  a  few 
days.  And  you  look  up  the  poor  old  creatures 
and  see  if  they  are  in  any  want.  Then  if  I  really 
can  do  them  any  good  I'll  go." 

She  always  softened  in  the  end.  She  felt  a 
little  sore  and  touchy  about  Steve's  engagement, 
and  proud,  too,  that  Miss  Beekman  had  accepted 
him.  Stephen  had  insisted  some  one  must  come 
in  and  help  sew,  and  that  his  mother  must  have  a 
little  time  for  herself.  Seven  men  and  boys  to 
make  shirts  for  was  no  light  matter.  The  little 
girl  was  learning  to  darn  stockings  very  nicely 
and  helped  her  mother  with  those. 

So  father  Underhill  took  the  little  girl  and  Dob- 


MISS  LOIS  AND  SIXTY  YEARS  AGO      in 

bin  and  the  ordinary  harness,  for  Steve  had  Prince 
and  the  silver-mounted  trappings,  and  the  elders 
could  guess  where  he  had  gone.  Business  was 
dull  along  in  August,  so  the  men  had  some  time 
for  diversion,  and  the  father  always  enjoyed  his 
little  daughter.  Her  limited  knowledge  and 
quaint  comments  amused  him,  and  her  sweet,  in 
nocent  love  touched  the  depths  of  his  soul. 

It  was  quite  in  the  afternoon  when  they  started. 
Dobbin  was  not  as  young  and  frisky  as  Prince,  so 
they  jogged  along,  looking  at  the  gardens,  the 
trees,  the  wild  masses  of  vines  and  sumac,  and 
then  stretches  of  rocky  space  interspersed  with 
squatters'  cabins  and  the  goats,  pigs,  geese,  and 
chickens.  Sometimes  in  after  years  when  she 
rode  through  Central  Park,  she  wondered  if  she 
had  not  dreamed  all  this,  instead  of  seeing  it  with 
her  own  eyes. 

They  went  over  to  Mr.  Brockner's  to  inquire. 

"  Oh,"  he  exclaimed,  "  Mrs.  Brockner  will  be  so 
sorry  to  miss  you.  She  has  talked  so  much  about 
your  little  girl,  and  threatened  to  hunt  her  up. 
And  now  she's  gone  to  Saratoga  for  a  fortnight,  to 
see  the  fashions.  But  you  must  come  up  again." 

Then  he  directed  them,  and  they  drove  over  in 
a  westerly  course  and  soon  came  to  the  little  stone 
house  that  bore  evident  marks  of  decay  from  neg 
lect  as  well  as  age.  The  first  story  was  rough 
stone,  the  half-story  of  shingles,  that  had  once 


ii2    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

been  painted  red.  There  were  two  small  win 
dows  in  the  gable  ends,  but  in  front  the  eaves 
overhung  the  doorway  and  the  windows  and  were 
broken  and  moss-grown.  There  was  a  big  flat 
stone  for  the  doorstep,  a  room  on  one  side  with 
two  windows,  and  on  the  other  only  one.  The 
hall  door  was  divided  in  the  middle,  the  upper 
part  open.  There  was  a  queer  brass  knocker  on 
this,  and  the  lower  part  fastened  with  an  old- 
fashioned  latch.  The  little  courtyard  looked  tidy, 
and  there  was  a  great  row  of  sweet  clover  along 
the  fence,  but  now  and  then  the  goats  would  nib 
ble  it  off. 

When  they  stepped  up  on  the  stoop  they  saw 
an  old  lady  sitting  in  a  rocking-chair,  with  a  little 
table  beside  her,  and  some  knitting  in  her  lap. 
She  had  evidently  fallen  into  a  doze.  Hanny 
stretched  up  on  tiptoe.  A  great  gray  cat  lay 
asleep  also.  There  were  some  mats  laid  about 
the  floor,  two  very  old  arm-chairs  with  fine  rush 
bottoms  painted  yellow,  a  door  open  on  either 
side  of  the  hall,  and  a  well-worn  winding  stairs 
going  up  at  the  back. 

Mr.  Underbill  reached  over  and  gave  a  light 
knock.  The  cat  lifted  its  head  and  made  a  queer 
sound  like  a  gentle  call,  then  went  to  the  old  lady 
and  stretched  up  to  her  knees.  She  started  and 
glanced  toward  the  door,  then  rose  in  a  little  con 
fusion. 


MISS  LOIS  AND  SIXTY  YEARS  AGO      113 

"I  am  looking  for  a  Miss  Underbill,"  began 
the  visitor. 

"Oh,  pardon  me."  She  unbolted  the  lower 
door.  "  I  believe  I  had  fallen  asleep.  Miss  Un 
derbill?"  in  a  sort  of  surprised  inquiry.  "lam 
— one  of  the  sisters.  Walk  in." 

She  pushed  out  one  of  the  arm-chairs  and  gave 
her  footstool  to  the  little  girl. 

"  I  am  an  Underbill  myself,  a  sort  of  connec 
tion,  I  dare  say.  We  heard  of  you  some  time 
ago,  but  I  have  been  much  occupied  with  busi 
ness,  yet  I  have  intended  all  the  time  to  call  on 
you." 

"  You  are  very  good,  I  am  sure.  We  had  some 
relations  on  Long  Island,  and  I  think  some  here 
about,  but  we  lost  sight  of  them  long  ago.  We 
really  have  no  one  now.  My  sister  Jane  is  past 
eighty,  and  I  am  only  three  years  younger. " 

She  was  a  slim,  shrunken  body  and  her  hands 
were  almost  transparent,  so  white  was  her  skin. 
Her  gown  was  gray,  and  she  wore  a  white  ker 
chief  crossed  on  her  bosom  like  a  Quakeress. 
Her  fine  muslin  cap  had  the  narrow  plain  border 
of  that  denomination. 

Mr.  Underbill  made  a  brief  explanation  of  his 
antecedents,  and  his  removal  to  the  city, — then 
mentioned  hearing  of  them  from  Mr.  Brockner. 

"You  are  very  good  to  hunt  us  up,"  she  said, 
with  a  touching  tremble  in  her  voice.  "  I  don't 
8 


ii4    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

think  now  I  could  tell  anything  about  my  father's 
relatives.  He  was  killed  at  the  battle  of  Harlem 
Heights,  and  my  only  brother  was  taken  prisoner. 
The  Ferrises,  my  mother's  people,  owned  a  great 
farm  hereabout.  But  much  of  it  was  laid  waste, 
and  a  little  later  the  old  homestead  burned  down. 
This  house  was  built  for  us  before  the  British 
evacuated  the  city.  My  brother  had  died  in 
prison  of  a  fever,  and  there  were  only  my  mother 
and  us  two  girls. " 

Hanny  was  sitting  quite  close  by  her.  She 
reached  over  and  took  the  wrinkled  hand 
gently. 

"  Do  you  mean  you  were  alive  then — a  little 
girl  in  the  Revolutionary  War?"  she  exclaimed  in 
breathless  surprise. 

"Why,  I  was  nine  years  old,"  and  she  gave  a 
faded  little  smile.  "  I  doubt  if  you're  more  than 
that." 

"  I  am  a  little  past  eight,"  said  Hanny. 

"And  the  battle  was  just  over  yonder,"  nod 
ding  her  head.  "  We  all  hoped  so  that  General 
Washington  would  win.  My  father  was  very 
patriotic  and  very  much  in  earnest  for  the 
independence  of  the  country.  The  armies  were 
separated  by  Harlem  Plains,  and  General  Howe 
pushed  forward  through  McGowan's  Pass,  the 
rocky  gorge  over  yonder.  But  our  men  forced 
them  into  the  cleared  field,  and  if  it  had  not  been 


MISS  LOIS  AND  SIXTY  YEARS  AGO      115 

for  a  troop  of  Hessians  they  would  have  driven 
the  British  off  the  field.  But  I  believe  Washing 
ton  thought  it  best  to  retreat.  I've  heard  it  was 
almost  a  victory,  still  it  wasn't  quite.  But  we 
were  wild  with  apprehension,  for  we  could  hear 
the  noise  and  the  firing.  And  then  the  awful 
word  came  that  father  was  killed. " 

"  Oh!"  cried  the  little  girl,  and  she  laid  her  soft 
cheek  on  the  wrinkled  hand.  What  if  she  had 
been  alive  then! — and  she  looked  over  at  her 
father  with  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"  It  was  a  sad,  sad  time.  Some  of  the  Ferrises 
were  on  the  King's  side.  You  know  a  great 
many  people  believed  the  rebels  all  wrong  and 
said  they  never  could  win.  My  Uncle  Ferris  was 
bitterly  opposed  to  father's  espousing  the  Feder 
alists'  cause." 

"  But  you  didn't  want  England  to  win,  did 
you?"  inquired  the  little  girl,  wide-eyed. 

"  We  were  so  full  of  trouble.  Mother  was  very 
bitter,  I  remember,  and  folks  called  her  a  Tory. 
Then  brother,  who  was  only  seventeen,  was  taken 
prisoner.  Uncle  Ferris  said  it  would  be  a  good 
lesson  for  a  hot-headed  young  fellow,  and  that 
two  or  three  months  in  prison  would  cool  his 
ardor.  But  he  was  taken  sick  and  died  before  we 
knew  he  was  really  ill.  Then  our  house  burned 
down.  Mother  thought  it  was  set  on  fire.  Oh, 
my  child,  such  quantities  of  things  as  were  in  it! 


ii6    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

My  mother  had  never  gone  away  from  the  old 
house  because  grandmother  was  a  widow.  Then 
the  land  was  divided,  and  this  smaller  house  built 
for  mother  and  us.  The  British  took  possession 
of  the  city,  and  it  was  said  uncle  made  money 
right  along.  But  the  English  were  very  good  to 
us,  and  no  one  ever  molested  us  after  that. 
Dear,  we  used  to  think  it  almost  a  day's  journey 
to  go  down  to  the  Bowling  Green." 

The  little  girl  was  listening  wide-eyed,  and 
drew  a  long  breath. 

"  There  have  been  many  changes.  But  some 
how  we  seem  to  have  gone  on  until  most  every 
body  has  forgotten  us.  You  might  like  to  see 
sister  Jane,  though  she's  quite  deaf  and  hasn't 
her  mind  very  clear.  I  don't  know," — hesitat 
ingly. 

"Do  you  live  all  alone  here?"  Mr.  Underhill 
asked. 

"Not  exactly  alone;  no.  We  sold  the  next- 
door  lot  four  years  ago  to  some  Germans,  very 
nice  people.  The  mother  comes  in  and  helps 
with  our  little  work  and  looks  after  our  garden, 
and  sleeps  here  at  night.  The  doctor  thought  it 
wasn't  safe  to  be  left  here  alone  with  sister  Jane. 
It  made  it  easy  for  them  to  pay  for  the  place. 
It's  nearly  all  gone  now.  But  there'll  be  enough 
to  last  our  time  out,"  she  commented  with  a  soft 
sigh  of  self-abnegation. 


MISS  LOIS  AND  SIXTY  YEARS  AGO      117 

"  And  you  have  no  relatives,  that  is,  no  one  to 
look  after  you  a  bit?" 

"Well,  you  see  grandmother  made  hard  feel 
ings  with  the  relatives.  She  didn't  think  the  col 
onies  had  any  right  to  go  to  war.  And  after 
father's  death  mother  felt  a  good  deal  that  way. 
They  dropped  us  out,  and  we  never  took  any 
pains  to  hunt  them  up.  We  never  knew  much 
about  the  Underbills.  I  must  say  you  are  very 
kind  to  come,"  and  her  voice  trembled. 

Just  then  the  door  opened  and  Miss  Underbill 
sprang  up  to  take  her  sister's  arm  and  lead  her  to 
a  chair.  She  was  taller  and  stouter,  and  the  little 
girl  thought  her  the  oldest-looking  person  she 
had  ever  seen.  Her  cap  was  all  awry,  her  shawl 
was  slipping  off  of  one  shoulder,  and  she  had  a 
sort  of  dishevelled  appearance,  as  she  looked  curi 
ously  around. 

Lois  straightened  her  up,  seated  her,  and  intro 
duced  her  to  the  visitors. 

"  I'm  hungry.  I  want  something  to  eat,  Lois," 
she  exclaimed  in  a  whining,  tremulous  tone,  re 
gardless  of  the  strangers. 

Miss  Underbill  begged  to  be  excused,  and  went 
for  a  plate  of  bread  and  butter  and  a  cup  of 
milk. 

"  Perhaps  you'd  like  to  see  our  old  parlor,"  she 
said  to  her  guests,  and  opened  the  door. 

There  were   two  rooms    on    this  side  of  the 


ii8    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

house.  The  back  one  was  used  for  a  sleeping 
chamber.  She  threw  the  shutters  wide  open,  and 
a  little  late  sunshine  stole  over  the  faded  carpet 
that  had  once  been  such  a  matter  of  pride  with 
the  two  young  women.  There  were  some  family 
portraits,  a  man  with  a  queue  and  a  ruffled  shirt- 
front,  another  with  a  big  curly  white  wig  coming 
down  over  his  shoulders,  and  several  ladies  whose 
attire  seemed  very  queer  indeed.  There  was  a 
black  sofa  studded  with  brass  nails  that  shone  as 
if  they  had  been  lately  polished,  a  tall  desk  and 
bookcase  going  up  to  the  ceiling,  brass  and  silver 
candlesticks  and  snuffers'  tray,  as  well  as  a  bright 
steel  "tinder  box"  on  the  high,  narrow  mantel. 
A  big  mahogany  table  stood  in  the  centre  of  the 
room,  polished  until  you  could  see  your  face  in 
it.  But  there  was  an  odd  tall  article  in  the 
corner,  much  tarnished  now,  but  ornamented 
with  gilt  and  white  vines  that  drooped  and  twis 
ted  about.  Long  wiry  strings  went  from  top  to 
bottom. 

"  I  suppose  you  don't  know  what  that  is!"  said 
Miss  Lois,  when  she  saw  the  little  girl  inspecting 
it.  "  That's  a  harp.  Young  ladies  played  on  it 
when  we  were  young  ourselves.  And  they  had  a 
spinet.  I  believe  it's  altered  now  and  called  a 
piano. " 

"  A  harp !"  said  the  little  girl  in  amaze.  Her 
ideas  of  a  harp  were  very  vague,  but  she 


MISS  LOIS  AND  SIXTY  YEARS  AGO      119 

thought  it  was  something  you  carried  around  with 
you.     She  had  heard  the  children  sing? 

"  I  want  to  be  an  angel 

And  with  the  angels  stand ; 
A  crown  upon  my  forehead, 
A  harp  within  my  hand," 

and  the  size  of  this  confused  her. 

"  But  how  could  you  play  on  it?"  she  asked. 

"  You  stood  this  way.  You  could  sit  down,  but 
it  was  considered  more  graceful  to  stand.  And 
you  played  in  this  manner." 

She  fingered  the  rusted  strings.  A  few  emit 
ted  a  doleful  sort  of  sound  almost  like  a  cry. 

"We've  all  grown  old  together,"  she  said  sor 
rowfully.  "  It  was  considered  a  great  accomplish 
ment  in  my  time.  I  believe  people  still  play  on 
the  harp.  We  had  a  great  many  curious  things, 
but  several  years  ago  a  committee  of  some  kind 
came  and  bought  them.  We  needed  the  money 
sadly,  and  we  had  no  one  to  leave  them  to  when 
we  died.  There  was  some  beautiful  old  china, 
and  a  lady  bought  the  fan  and  handkerchief  that 
my  grandmother  carried  at  her  wedding.  The 
handkerchief  was  worked  at  some  convent  in  Italy 
and  was  fine  as  a  cobweb.  My  mother  used  it, 
and  then  it  was  laid  by  for  us.  But  we  never 
needed  it,"  and  she  gave  a  soft  sigh. 

She  had  glided  out  now  and  then  to  look  after 


120    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Jane,  who  was  eating1  as  if  she  was  starved.  And 
in  the  broken  bits  of  talk  Mr.  Underhill  had 
learned  by  indirect  questioning  that  they  had 
parted  with  their  land  by  degrees,  and  with  some 
family  valuables,  until  there  was  only  this  old 
house  and  a  small  space  of  ground  left. 

Miss  Jane  was  anxious  now  to  see  the  visitors. 
But  she  was  so  deaf  Lois  had  to  repeat  every 
thing,  and  she  seemed  to  forget  the  moment  a 
thing  was  said.  Dobbin  whinnied  as  if  he 
thought  the  call  had  been  long  enough. 

Mr.  Underhill  squeezed  a  bank-note  into  the 
hand  of  Miss  Lois  as  he  said  good-by.  "  Get  some 
little  luxury  for  your  sister,"  he  added. 

"Thank  you  for  all  your  friendliness,"  and  the 
tears  stood  in  her  eyes.  "  Come  again  and  bring 
your  sister  Margaret,"  she  said  to  the  little  girl. 

They  drove  over  westward  a  short  distance. 
The  rocky  gorge  was  still  there,  and  at  its  foot 
was  one  of  the  first  battle-fields  of  this  vicinity. 
Hanny  looked  at  it  wonderingly. 

"Then  Washington  retreated  up  to  Kings- 
bridge,"  began  her  father.  "They  found  they 
could  not  hold  that,  and  so  went  on  to  White 
Plains,  followed  by  some  Hessian  troops.  They 
didn't  seem  very  fortunate  at  first,  for  they  were 
beaten  again.  Grandmother  can  tell  you  a  good 
deal  about  that.  And  a  great-uncle  had  his  house 
burned  down  and  they  were  forced  to  fly  to  a 


MISS  LOIS  AND  SIXTY  YEARS  AGO      121 

little  old  house  on  top  of  a  hill.  My  father  was 
a  little  boy  then." 

The  little  girl  looked  amazed.  Did  he  know 
about  the  war? 

"  It  seems  such  a  long,  long  time  ago — like  the 
flood  and  the  selling  of  Joseph.  And  was  grand 
mother  really  alive?" 

"Grandmother  is  about  as  old  as  Miss  Lois." 

"  Miss  Lois  doesn't  look  so  awful  old,  but  the 
other  lady  does.  I  felt  afraid  of  her. " 

"  Don't  think  of  her,  pussy.  It's  very  sad  to 
lose  your  senses  and  be  a  trouble." 

"You  couldn't,"  was  the  confident  reply  after 
much  consideration.  She  didn't  see  how  such  a 
thing  could  happen  to  him. 

"I  hope  I  never  shall,"  he  returned,  with  an 
earnest  prayer  just  under  his  breath. 

Dobbin  insisted  upon  going  home  briskly.  He 
was  thinking  of  his  supper.  The  little  girl  was 
so  sorry  not  to  have  Benny  Frank  to  talk  over  her 
adventures  with.  Margaret  and  her  mother  were 
basting  shirts;  John  was  drawing  plans  on  the 
dining-room  table.  He  had  found  a  place  to  work 
at  house-building  and  was  studying  architecture 
and  draughting.  A  man  had  come  in  to  see  her 
father,  so  she  was  left  quite  alone.  The  Deans 
and  several  of  the  little  girls  on  the  block  had 
gone  visiting.  She  walked  up  and  down  a  while, 
thinking  how  strange  the  world  was,  and  what 


122    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

wonderful  things  had  happened,  vaguely  feeling 
that  there  couldn't  be  any  to  come  in  the  future. 

At  the  end  of  the  week  she  and  Margaret  went 
up  to  White  Plains,  as  grandmother  was  anxious 
to  see  them. 

Her  grandmother  was  invested  with  a  curious 
new  interest  in  her  eyes.  That  any  one  belong 
ing  to  her  should  have  lived  in  the  Revolutionary 
War  seemed  a  real  stretch  of  the  imagination  for 
a  little  girl  eight  years  old.  Grandmother  con 
sidered  her  wonderful  also.  She  wasn't  so  much 
in  favor  of  short  frocks  and  pantalets  that  came 
down  to  your  ankles,  but  the  little  girl  did  look 
pretty  in  them.  And  when  she  found  how  neat 
ly  she  could  hemstitch  and  do  such  beautiful 
featherstitch,  and  darn,  and  read  so  plainly  that 
it  was  a  pleasure  to  listen  to  her,  she  had  to  ad 
mit  that  Hannah  Ann  was  a  real  credit,  and,  she 
confessed  in  her  secret  heart,  a  very  sweet  little 
girl. 

"  I've  begun  your  new  Irish  chain  patchwork," 
she  said.  "I've  made  one  block  for  a  pattern, 
and  cut  out  quite  a  pile.  Aunt  Eunice  lighted 
upon  some  beautiful  green  calico.  I  was  upon  a 
stand  whether  to  have  green  or  red,  but  an  Irish 
chain  generally  is  pieced  of  green.  It  seems 
more  appropriate." 

And  yet  people  had  not  begun  to  sing  "  The 
Wearing  of  the  Green. " 


MISS  LOIS  AND  SIXTY  YEARS  AGO      123 

"I  declare,"  said  Cousin  Ann,  "you're  such  an 
old-fashioned  little  thing  one  can  hardly  tell 
which  is  the  oldest,  you  or  grandmother. " 

"  Is  it  anything" — what  should  she  say? — wrong 
or  bad  seemed  too  forcible — "queer  to  be  old- 
fashioned?" 

"  Well,  yes,  queer.  But  you're  awful  sweet  and 
cunning,  Hannah  Ann,  and  we'd  just  like  to  keep 
you  forever. " 

"  With  that  she  almost  squeezed  the  breath  out 
of  the  little  girl  and  kissed  her  a  dozen  times. 

Grandmother  could  tell  such  wonderful  stories 
as  they  sat  and  sewed.  All  the  glories  of  the  old 
Underhill  house,  and  the  silver  and  plate  that  had 
come  over  from  England,  and  the  set  of  real 
china  that  a  sea  captain,  one  of  the  Underhills, 
had  brought  from  China  and  how  it  had  taken 
three  years  to  go  there  and  come  back.  And  the 
beautiful  India  shawl  it  had  taken  seven  years  to 
make,  and  the  Persian  silk  gown  that  had  been 
bought  of  some  great  chief  or  Mogul — grand 
mother  wasn't  quite  sure,  but  she  thought  they 
had  a  king  or  emperor  in  those  countries.  She 
had  a  little  piece  of  the  silk  that  she  showed 
Hanny,  and  a  waist  ribbon  that  came  from  Paris, 
"For  you  see,"  said  she,  "we  were  so  angry  with 
England  that  we  wouldn't  buy  anything  of  her  if 
we  could  help  it.  And  the  French  people  came 
over  and  helped  us. " 


124    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"  What  did  they  fight  about?"  grandmother. 

"Oh,  child,  a  great  many  things.  You  can't 
understand  them  all  now,  but  you'll  learn  about 
them  presently.  The  people  who  came  here  and 
settled  the  country  wanted  the  right  to  govern 
themselves.  They  thought  a  king,  thousands  of 
miles  away,  couldn't  know  what  was  best  for 
them.  And  England  sent  over  things  and  we 
had  to  pay  for  them  whether  we  wanted  them  or 
not.  And  it  was  a  long  struggle,  but  we  won,  and 
the  British  had  to  go  back  to  their  own  country. 
Why,  if  we  hadn't  fought,  we  wouldn't  have  had 
any  country, "  and  grandmother's  old  face  flushed. 

The  little  girl  thinks  it  would  be  dreadful  not 
to  have  a  country,  but  her  mind  is  quite  chaotic 
on  the  subject.  She  is  glad,  however,  to  have 
been  on  the  winning  side. 

Nearly  every  day  Uncle  David  took  her  out 
driving.  They  saw  the  old  house  on  the  hill  in  a 
half-hidden,  woody  section  where  the  family  had 
to  live  until  the  new  house  was  built.  They  went 
round  the  battlefield,  but  sixty  years  of  peace  had 
made  great  changes,  and  the  next  fifty  years  was 
to  see  a  beautiful  town  and  many-storied  palaces 
all  about.  She  dipped  into  the  history  of  New 
Amsterdam  again  and  began  to  understand  it 
better,  though  she  did  mistrust  that  Mr.  Dederich 
Knickerbocker  now  and  then  "  made  fun,"  not  un 
like  her  father. 


MISS  LOIS  AND  SIXTY  YEARS  AGO      125 

The  visit  came  to  an  end  quite  too  soon,  grand 
mother  thought,  and  she  was  very  sorry  to  part 
with  the  little  girl.  She  thought  she  would  try 
and  come  down  when  the  fall  work  was  done,  and 
she  gave  Hanny  only  four  blocks  of  patchwork, 
for  if  she  went  to  school  there  wouldn't  be  much 
time  to  sew. 

They  stopped  at  Yonkers  two  days  and  picked 
up  the  boys,  who  were  brown  and  rosy.  Aunt 
Crete  was  much  better  and  did  not  have  to  go 
about  with  her  face  tied  up.  She  said  there  was 
no  place  like  Yonkers,  after  all.  Retty  seemed 
happy  and  jolly,  but  there  was  a  new  girl  in  the 
kitchen,  for  Aunt  Mary  had  gone  to  live  with  her 
children.  George  said  he  should  come  down 
a  while  when  the  crops  were  in. 

School  commenced  the  ist  of  September  sharp. 
It  was  hot,  of  course.  Summer  generally  does 
lap  over.  The  boys  who  had  shouted  themselves 
hoarse  with  joy  when  school  closed,  made  the 
street  and  the  playground  ring  with  delight 
again.  If  they  were  not  so  fond  of  studying  they 
liked  the  fun  and  good-fellowship.  And  when 
they  marched  up  and  down  the  long  aisles  sing 
ing: 

"  Hail  Columbia,  happy  land ; 
Hail  ye  heroes,  heaven-born  band. 
Who  fought  and  bled  in  freedom's  cause !" 

you  could  feel  assured  another  generation  of  pa- 


126    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

triots  was  being  raised  for  some  future  emer 
gency.  Oh,  what  throats  and  lungs  they  had ! 

Mrs.  Underhill  had  been  around  to  see  Mrs. 
Craven,  and  liked  her  very  well  indeed.  So  the 
little  girl  was  to  go  to  school  with  Josie  and 
Tudie  Dean. 

Some  new  people  had  come  in  the  street  two 
doors  below.  Among  the  members  was  a  little 
girl  of  seven,  the  child  of  the  oldest  son,  and  a 
large  girl  of  fourteen  or  so,  two  young  ladies,  one 
of  whom  was  teaching  school,  and  the  other  mak 
ing  artificial  flowers  in  a  factory  down-town,  and 
two  sons.  The  eldest  one  was  connected  with  a 
newspaper,  and  was  in  quite  poor  health.  His 
wife,  the  little  girl's  mother,  had  been  dead  some 
years.  The  child  was  rather  pale  and  thin,  with 
large,  dark  eyes,  and  a  face  too  old  for  her  years 
and  rather  pathetic.  And  when  Mrs.  Whitney 
came  in  a  few  days  later  to  inquire  where  Mrs. 
Underhill  sent  her  little  girl  to  school,  she  decided 
to  let  her  grandchild  go  to  Mrs.  Craven's  also. 

"  She's  quite  a  delicate  little  thing  and  takes 
after  her  mother.  I  tell  my  son,  she  wants  to 
company  with  other  children  and  not  sit  around 
nursing  the  cat.  But  Ophelia,  that's  my  daugh 
ter  who  teaches  down- town,  where  we  used  to 
live,  says  the  public  school  is  no  place  for  her. 
And  your  little  girl  seems  so  nice  and  quiet  like." 

Nora,  as  they  called  her,  was  very  shy  at  first. 


MISS  LOIS  AND  SIXTY  YEARS  AGO      127 

Hanny  went  after  her,  and  found  the  Deans  wait 
ing  on  their  stoop.  Nora  never  uttered  a  word, 
but  looked  as  if  she  would  cry  the  next  moment. 
Mrs.  Craven  took  her  in  charge  in  a  motherly 
fashion,  but  it  seemed  very  hard  for  her  to  frater 
nize  with  the  children. 

Mrs.  Craven  lived  in  a  corner  house.  The  en 
trance  to  the  school  was  on  Third  Street,  and  the 
school-room  was  built  off  the  back  parlor,  which 
was  used  as  a  recitation-room  for  the  older  class. 
There  were  about  twenty  little  girls,  none  of 
them  older  than  twelve.  At  the  end  of  the  yard 
was  a  vacant  lot,  fenced  in,  which  made  a  beau 
tiful  playground. 

There  were  numbers  of  such  schools  at  that 
period,  but  they  were  mostly  for  little  girls. 
Hanny  liked  it  very  much.  On  Wednesday  after 
noon  they  had  drawing,  and  reading  aloud,  when 
the  girls  could  make  their  own  selections,  which 
were  sometimes  very  amusing.  On  Friday  after 
noon  they  sewed  and  embroidered  and  did  worsted 
work.  There  was  quite  a  rage  about  this.  One 
girl  had  a  large  piece  in  a  frame — "  Joseph  Sold  by 
his  Brethren. "  Hanny  never  tired  of  the  beautiful 
blue  and  red  and  orange  costumes.  Another  girl 
was  working  a  chair  seat.  And  still  another  had 
begun  to  embroider  a  black  silk  apron  with  a  soft 
shade  of  red.  Then  they  hemstitched  handker 
chiefs,  they  marked  towels  and  napkins  with  or- 


128    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

nate  letters,  and  really  were  a  busy  lot.  Little 
Eleanora  Whitney  couldn't  sew  a  stitch,  and  some 
of  the  girls  thought  it  "  just  dreadful. " 

Friday  from  half-past  three  until  five  Miss 
Helen  Craven  gave  the  children,  whose  parents 
desired  it,  a  dancing  lesson.  If  Nora  couldn't 
sew,  she  could  dance  like  a  fairy.  Her  education 
was  a  curious  conglomeration.  She  could  read 
and  declaim,  but  spelling  was  quite  beyond  her, 
and  her  attempts  at  it  made  a  titter  through  the 
room.  She  could  talk  a  little  French,  and  she 
had  crossed  the  ocean  to  England  with  her  papa 
So  she  wasn't  to  be  despised  altogether. 


Cbapter  Bigbt. 

THE   END    OF    THE    WORLD. 

'TAINT  no  such  thing!  The  world  couldn't 
come  to  an  end!"  Janey  Day  quite  forgot  Mrs. 
Craven's  strictures  on  speech.  "It's  too  strong. 
And— and " 

"And  it's  round,"  said  the  wit  of  the  school. 
"  Round  as  a  ring  and  has  no  end.  There  now. " 

"  But  the  world  ain't  like  a  ring." 

"  So  is»V  my  love  for  you,  my  friend." 

There  was  quite  a  little  shout  of  laughter.. 

One  of  the  larger  girls,  Hester  Brown,  stood 
with  upraised  head  and  earnest  countenance. 

"  It  is  coming  to  an  end  in  October.  It  is  only 
two  or  three  weeks  off.  My  father  has  read  it  all 
in  the  Bible.  And  we  are  getting  ready. " 

Her  demeanor  silenced  the  little  group. 

"  But  how  do  you  get  ready?" 

"  We  must  repent  of  our  sins.  And  that's  why 
mother  wouldn't  let  me  come  to  the  dancing- 
class.  She  thinks  it  wrong,  any  way.  And 
mother  and  Auntie  are  making  their  ascension 
robes.  We  go  to  church  every  night." 
9  129 


130    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

The  girls  stood  awestruck. 

"What's  going  to  happen?"  asked  one. 

"  Why,  the  world  will  be  burned  up.  All  those 
who  love  God  are  to  be  caught  up  to  heaven. 
Then  the  dead  people  who  have  been  good  will 
rise  out  of  their  graves.  And  all  the  rest — every 
thing  will  be  burned. " 

The  solemnity  of  the  girl's  voice  impressed  so 
that  they  looked  at  each  other  in  silent  fear. 

"I  just  don't  believe  a  word  of  it,"  declared 
Janey  Day,  drawing  a  long  breath.  "  My  father's 
a  good  man  and  goes  to  church  and  reads  the 
Bible  every  night.  He's  read  it  through  more 
than  fifty  times,  and  he's  never  said  a  word  about 
the  world  coming  to  an  end.  And  he's  building 
a  new  house  for  us  to  move  into  next  spring." 

"  Fifty  times,  Janey  Day!  It  takes  a  long,  long 
while  to  read  the  Bible  through.  My  grand 
mother's  read  it  all  through  twice,  and  she's 
awful  old." 

"Well — twenty  times  at  least.  And  don't  you 
'spose  he'd  found  something  about  it?" 

"  Everybody  can't  tell.  It's  in  Daniel.  There's 
days  and  times  to  be  added  up. " 

"  Five  otyou,  Janey,"  said  the  wit  with  a  child's 
irreverence. 

"Just  when  is  it  coming  to  an  end?  Girls, 
there's  no  use  to  study  any  more  lessons." 

"  It  will  be  next  week,"  said  Hester  with  almost 


THE  END  OF  THE  WORLD  131 

tragic  solemnity.  "  But  you  must  all  go  on  doing 
your  work  just  the  same. " 

"  I  don't  see  the  sense.  I've  just  begun  frac 
tions,  and  I  hate  them.  I  won't  do  another 
sum. " 

The  bell  rang  and  recess  was  at  an  end.  The 
girls  straggled  until  they  reached  the  doorway, 
then  suddenly  straightened  themselves  into  an 
orderly  line  and  took  their  seats  quietly.  There 
was  a  sound  of  rapidly  moving  pencils — slates  and 
pencils  were  in  full  swing  then.  No  one  had  in 
vented  "pads." 

One  after  another  read  out  answers.  A  few 
went  up  to  Mrs.  Craven  for  assistance. 

"Lottie  B rower, "  the  lady  said  presently. 

Lottie  colored.  She  had  a  kind  of  school-girl 
grudge  against  Hester. 

"I — I  haven't  done  my  sums,"  she  replied 
slowly. 

"Why  not?" 

"  Because  the  world  is  coming  to  an  end. 
They're  so  hard,  and  what  is  the  use  if  we're 
not  going  to  live  longer  than  next  week?" 

Every  girl  stopped  her  work  and  stared  at 
Hester,  amazed,  yet  rather  enjoying  Lottie's 
audacity. 

"  How  did  you  come  by  such  an  idea?"  asked 
Mrs.  Craven  quietly. 

"  But  is  there  any  use  of  studying  or  anything?" 


132    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Lottie's  voice  had  a  little  tremble  in  it.  "I'm 
sure  I  don't  want  the  world  to  come  to  an  end, 
but " 

"  Do  your  people  believe  this?" 

"No,  ma'am,"  replied  Lottie. 

"  Where,  then,  did  you  get  the  idea?" 

"  Hester  Brown  is  sure " 

Hester's  face  was  scarlet.  She  felt  that  she 
was  called  upon  to  bear  witness. 

"  My  father  and  mother  believe  it,  and  we  are 
all  getting  ready.  My  uncle  means  to  give  away 
all  his  things  next  week. " 

The  girl  was  in  such  earnest  that  Mrs.  Craven 
was  puzzled  for  a  moment. 

"  I  do  not  think  we  shall  know  the  day  or  the 
hour,"  was  the  reply.  "We  are  all  exhorted  to 
go  on  diligently  with  whatever  we  are  doing. 
And  Lottie,  Hester  has  certainly  set  you  an  ex 
ample.  She  did  her  sums  correctly.  She  has 
added  works  to  her  faith  as  the  Bible  commands. 
I  am  aware  many  people  think  the  end  of  the 
world  is  near,  but  that  is  no  reason  for  our  being 
careless  and  indolent.  I  doubt  if  that  excuse 
would  be  accepted ;  at  all  events,  I  cannot  accept 
yours. " 

"But  I  hate  fractions!  The  divisors  and  the 
multiples  get  all  mixed  up  and  go  racing  round 
in  my  head  until  I  can't  tell  one  from  the  other." 

"Bring  your  slate  here."     Mrs.  Craven  made 


THE  END  OF  THE  WORLD  133 

room  for  her  by  the  table.  "  Now,  what  is  the 
trouble?" 

Twelve  o'clock  struck  before  Lottie  was 
through,  but  she  had  to  admit  that  it  wasn't  so 
"  awful"  when  Mrs.  Craven  explained  the  sums  in 
her  quiet,  lucid  manner.  The  girls  rose  and  went 
to  the  closet  for  their  hats  and  capes. 

"Girls,"  began  Mrs.  Craven.  "I  want  to  say  a 
word.  I  hope  each  one  of  you  will  respect  the 
other's  religious  belief.  Our  country  has  been 
founded  on  the  corner-stone  of  liberty  in  this 
matter,  and  one  ought  to  be  noble  enough  not 
to  ridicule  or  sneer  at  any  honest,  sincere  faith, 
remembering  that  we  cannot  all  believe  alike. " 

Hester  went  out  with  two  or  three  of  the  larger 
girls. 

"  I  do  not  think  you  were  quite  kind,  Lottie," 
said  her  teacher,  in  a  soft  tone. 

"  But  what  would  be  the  use  of  fractions  if  the 
world  came  to  an  end?" 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Craven !  do  you  believe  it?  I  should 
feel  just  dreadful.  The  world  has  so  many  splen 
did  things  in  it — and  to  be  burned  up. " 

"  I  should  just  be  frightened  to  death,"  and  one 
little  girl  shuddered. 

"  Children,  I  am  sorry  anything  has  been  said 
about  this.  There  are  a  good  many  people  who 
believe  and  who  have  preached  for  the  last  three 
years  that  the  end  of  the  world  is  near.  The 


134    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

time  has  been  set  for  next  week.  Yet  the  Bible 
does  say  that  no  man  knoweth  the  day  nor  the 
hour.  I  do  not  believe  in  these  predictions,"  and 
she  smiled  reassuringly.  "I  think  we  can  all 
count  on  Thanksgiving  and  a  merry  Christmas 
as  well  as  a  happy  New  Year.  I  want  you  all  to 
be  kind  to  each  other,  and  when  Hester  is  disap 
pointed  next  week,  to  refrain  from  teasing  her. 
If  you  think  for  a  moment,  you  will  find  it  very 
easy  to  believe  just  as  your  parents  do,  for  you 
love  them  the  best  of  any  one  in  this  world.  And 
the  more  you  respect  and  obey  them,  the  more 
ready  you  are  to  be  kind  and  gentle  and  truthful 
to  all  about  you.  the  better  you  are  serving  God. 
You  must  leave  this  matter  in  His  hands,  and  re 
member  that  He  loves  you  all,  and  will  do  what 
ever  is  best.  Don't  feel  troubled  about  the  world 
coming  to  an  end.  I  am  afraid  Lottie  here  will 
have  a  great  deal  more  trouble  about  fractions. 
I  doubt  if  she  gets  through  by  Christmas.  Now 
run  home  or  you  will  be  late  for  dinner. " 

The  little  girl  sat  very  quiet  at  the  table. 
There  was  only  her  mother,  John,  and  the  boys. 
She  wished  that  her  father  or  Steve  were  here  so 
she  could  ask  them.  A  strange  awe  was  creeping 
over  her.  It  seemed  so  dreadful  to  have  all  the 
world  burned  up.  There  might  be  some  people 
left  behind  in  the  hurry.  It  hurt  terribly  to  be 
burned  even  a  little. 


THE  END  OF  THE  WORLD  135 

There  was  a  very  sober  lot  of  girls  at  school 
that  afternoon.  The  jest  was  all  taken  out  of  re 
cess.  Hester  sat  on  the  steps  reading  a  little  pock 
et  Testament.  The  others  huddled  together  and 
shook  their  heads  mysteriously,  saying  just  above  a 
whisper,  "  I  don't  believe  it. "  "  My  mother  says 
it  isn't  so. "  But  somehow  they  did  not  seem  to 
fortify  themselves  much  with  these  protestations. 

Some  of  the  elder  cousins  had  come  to  visit  and 
take  tea.  People  went  visiting  by  three  in  the 
afternoon  and  carried  their  work  along.  There 
was  an  atmosphere  of  relationship  and  real  living 
that  gave  a  certain  satisfaction.  You  enjoyed  it. 
It  was  not  paying  a  social  debt  reluctantly,  re 
lieved  to  have  it  over,  but  a  solid,  substantial 
pleasure. 

Martha  took  the  little  girl  upstairs  and  put  on 
a  blue  delaine  frock  and  white  apron,  and  polished 
her  "  buskins, "  as  the  low  shoes  were  called.  Then 
she  went  into  the  parlor  and  spoke  to  all  the 
ladies.  She  had  her  lace  in  a  little  bag,  and  pres 
ently  she  sat  down  on  an  ottoman  and  took  out 
her  work. 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  that  child  can  knit 
lace>  And  oak-leaf,  too,  I  do  declare!  What  a 
smart  little  girl !" 

"  Oh,  she  embroiders  quite  nicely,  also.  Han 
nah  Ann,  get  your  apron  and  show  Cousin 
Dorcas." 


136    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

The  apron  was  praised  and  the  handkerchiefs 
she  had  marked  for  her  father  were  brought  out. 
Then  she  was  asked  what  she  was  studying  at 
school. 

Cousin  Dorcas  was  knitting  "shells"  for  a 
counterpane.  There  was  one  of  white  and  one 
of  red,  and  they  were  put  together  in  a  rather 
long  diamond  shape  with  a  row  of  openwork  be 
tween  every  block.  It  was  for  her  daughter,  who 
was  going  to  be  married  in  the  spring,  and  it  in 
terested  the  little  girl  wonderfully. 

Then  they  talked  about  Steve  and  Dolly  Beek- 
man.  While  the  girls  were  at  White  Plains,  Steve 
had  coaxed  his  father  and  mother  up  to  the 
Beekmans',  and  the  engagement  had  been  settled 
with  all  due  formality.  Dolly  and  her  mother 
had  been  down  and  taken  tea.  And  now  Steve 
went  up  every  Sunday  afternoon  and  stayed  to 
supper,  and  once  or  twice  through  the  week, 
and  took  Dolly  out  driving  and  escorted  her  to 
parties. 

The  Beekmans  were  good,  solid  people,  and 
Peggy  ought  to  be  satisfied  that  Stephen  had 
chosen  so  wisely.  "  Was  it  true  that  Steve  had 
been  buying  some  land  way  out  of  town?  Did 
he  mean  to  build  there?" 

'*  Oh,  dear,  no !"  answered  his  mother.  "  It  was 
a  crazy  thing,  but  John  had  really  persuaded  him, 
and  John  was  too  young  to  have  any  judgment. 


THE  END  OF  THE  WORLD  137 

But  he  said  the  Astors  were  buying-  up  there,  and 
land  was  almost  given  away." 

"I  don't  know  what  it's  good  for,"  declared 
Aunt  Frasie.  "Why  it'll  be  forty  years  before 
the  city'll  go  out  there.  Well,  it  may  be  good 
for  his  grandchildren." 

They  all  gave  a  little  laugh. 

Presently  another  of  the  cousins  sat  down  at 
the  piano  and  played  the  "  Battle  of  Prague. " 

Then  Aunt  Frasie  said,  "  Do  sing  something. 
It  doesn't  seem  half  like  music  without  the  sing 
ing." 

Maria  Jane  ran  her  fingers  over  the  keys,  and 
began  a  plaintive  air  very  much  in  vogue : 

"Shed  not  a  tear  o'er  your  friend's  early  bier, 
When  I  am  gone,  I  am  gone." 

Aunt  Frasie  heard  her  through  the  first  verse, 
and  then  said  impatiently : 

"  You've  sung  that  at  so  many  funerals,  Maria 
Jane,  that  it  makes  me  feel  creepy.  You  used  to 
sing  'Banks  and  Braes.'  Do  try  that." 

It  had  been  said  of  Maria  Jane  in  her  earlier 
years  that  she  had  sung  "  Bonnie  Doon"  so  pa 
thetically  she  had  moved  the  roomful  to  tears. 
Her  voice  was  rather  thin  now,  with  a  touch  of 
shrillness  on  the  high  notes,  but  the  little  girl 
listened  entranced.  Then  she  sang  "  Scots  wha' 
hae"  and  **  Roy's  wife  of  Aldivaloch. "  Margaret 


138    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

had  come  home,  the  supper-table  was  spread,  the 
men  came  in,  and  they  sat  down  to  the  feast. 
They  teased  Steve  a  little,  and  bade  John  beware, 
and  were  so  merry  all  the  evening  that  when  it 
came  her  bedtime  the  little  girl  had  forgotten  all 
about  the  world  coming  to  an  end. 

The  girls  discussed  it  the  next  day.  Most  of 
their  mothers  and  fathers  had  scouted  the  idea. 
Josie  Dean  was  very  positive  it  couldn't  be — her 
father  had  been  going  over  the  Bible  and  the 
Millerites  had  made  a  big  mistake. 

"And  girls,"  said  Josie  earnestly,  "St.  John, 
one  of  the  disciples  of  our  Saviour,  lived  to  be 
a  hundred  years  old.  Some  people  taught  that 
the  world  would  come  to  an  end  before  he  died. 
And  now  it's  1843,  an^  it's  stood  all  this  while, 
though  every  now  and  then  there's  been  an  ex 
citement  about  it.  And  I  ain't  going  to  be  afraid 
at  all,  there  now!" 

The  little  girl  wondered  whether  she  would  be 
afraid.  But  Friday  evening  the  boys  were  full  of 
it,  and  Steve  said  it  was  nonsense.  She  crept  up 
into  her  father's  lap  and  asked  him  in  a  tremu 
lous  whisper  if  he  was  afraid. 

"No,  dear,"  he  answered,  pressing  her  to  his 
heart. 

"  But  if  it  should  come. " 

"Well — I'd  take  my  little  girl  and  mother  and 
Margaret. " 


THE  END  OF  THE  WORLD  139 

"And  what  would  you  do?"  as  he  made  a  long- 
pause. 

"  I'd  beg  to  be  taken  into  heaven.  And  we 
would  all  be  together.  I  think  God  would  be 
good  to  us." 

"And  the  boys." 

"Yes,  the  boys."  He  wondered  within  himself 
if  they  were  all  fit  for  heaven.  But  he  was  quite 
sure  the  little  girl  was. 

There  was  a  very  great  excitement.  For 
months  there  had  been  meetings  of  exhortation 
and  prophesying,  and  appeals  to  conscience,  to 
terror,  to  the  desire  of  being  saved  from  impend 
ing  destruction.  Last  winter  there  had  been 
revivals  everywhere,  yet  during  the  summer 
thoughtful  people  had  questioned  whether  the 
moral  tone  of  the  community  had  been  any 
higher.  There  were  heroic  souls,  that  always 
rise  to  the  surface  in  times  of  spiritual  agitation. 
There  were  others  moved  by  any  excitement,  who 
seized  on  this  with  a  kind  of  ungovernable  rap 
ture. 

No  one  spoke  of  it  in  Sunday-school.  Hanny 
brought  home  "Little  Blind  Lucy,"  and  was  so 
lost  in  its  perusal  that  she  hardly  wanted  to 
leave  off  for  half  an  hour  with  Joe.  But  her 
mother  let  her  look  over  to  see  whether  Lucy 
really  did  have  her  eyesight  restored.  She  was 
so  sleepy  that  when  she  had  said  her  little  prayer 


140    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

she  felt  quite  sure  that  God  would  take  care  of 
her  and  the  beautiful  world  He  had  made.  It 
would  be  cruel  to  burn  it  all  up. 

But  the  children  went  to  school  on  Monday. 
Martha  washed  as  usual.  She  did  think  it  would 
be  a  waste  of  labor  and  strength  if  the  world 
came  to  an  end,  though  she  was  sure  clean  clothes 
would  burn  up  quicker,  and  if  it  had  to  be,  one 
might  as  well  have  it  over  as  soon  as  possible. 

All  things  went  on,  the  buying  and  selling,  the 
business  of  the  day,  and  in  some  houses  there 
were  weary  pain-racked  bodies  that  slipped  out 
of  life  gently  without  waiting  for  the  general  con 
flagration. 

Still  a  strange  awe  did  pervade  the  city.  Some 
of  the  churches  were  open,  and  people  were  on 
their  knees  weeping  and  sobbing  to  be  made 
ready ;  others  were  full  of  faith  and  expectations, 
singing  hymns,  and  impatiently  waiting  the  mo 
ment  when  the  trump  would  sound  and  they  be 
caught  up  to  glory.  Down  on  Grand  Street  Hes 
ter  Brown's  uncle  was  giving  away  shoes,  and 
wondering  at  the  fatal  unbelief  of  those  who  were 
so  ready  to  accept.  Here  and  there  another  of 
abounding  faith  was  doing  the  same  thing,  or  per 
haps  giving  away  things  they  did  not  need,  hop 
ing  it  would  be  accounted  to  them  for  good 
works. 

Hester  was  not  in  school.     Neither  did  she  come 


THE  END  OF  THE  WORLD  141 

on  Tuesday,  and  that  night  was  to  be  the  fatal 
end  of  all  things.  A  great  many  people  went  to 
church  that  day.  The  children  did  suffer  from 
dread,  though  Lottie  Brower  kept  up  a  sort  of 
cheery  bravado,  as  one  whistles  or  sings  in  the 
dark. 

"  And  I  don't  think  Hester's  been  such  an  aw 
ful  sight  better  than  the  rest  of  us.  She  an 
swered  correct  one  day  when  she  had  talked,  and 
pretended  she  had  forgotten  all  about  it.  And 
she  was  just  mean  enough  about  that  clover-leaf 
pattern  and  wouldn't  show  a  single  girl.  And 
she  gets  mad  just  as  easy  as  the  rest  of  us. " 

"  I  think  we  oughtn't  get  mad  any  more.  And, 
girls,  I'll  lend  you  my  knife  to  sharpen  your 
pencils.  We  ought  to  try  to  be  just  as  good  as 
we  could,  for  my  Sunday-school  teacher  said  if 
we  died  the  world  came  to  an  end  for  us. " 

They  made  many  resolves.  Mrs.  Craven 
thought  they  had  never  been  so  angelic  in  their 
lives. 

But  the  little  girl  was  very  much  "stirred 
up." 

People  didn't  say  nervous  so  much  in  those 
days.  In  fact  nervousness  was  rather  associated 
with  whims  and  tempers.  Joe  came  over  to  sup 
per — he  could  get  off  from  the  hospital  now  and 
then.  They  were  all  talking  about  going  to  De- 
lancey  Street  Church,  where  it  was  said  people 


H2    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

would  be  dressed  in  their  ascension  robes,  and 
remain  to  the  final  change. 

Margaret  begged  to  go,  and  said  she  knew  all 
her  lessons.  The  boys  had  theirs  to  study.  Jim 
scouted  the  idea  of  the  world's  coming  to  an  end. 
Benny  adduced  several  remarkable  reasons  why 
it  couldn't  come  just  yet.  The  Millerites  had 
made  a  mistake  in  the  true  meaning  of  the  "  days" 
in  Daniel. 

"Are  you  quite  sure?"  asked  the  little  girl 
timidly. 

"  Well — you'll  see  the  same  old  world  next  week 
this  time.  Don't  you  get  frightened,  Hanny 
dear,"  and  Ben  kissed  her  reassuringly. 

She  sat  by  the  boys  and  knit  on  her  lace  a  while. 
Then  her  mother  looked  up  from  the  stockings 
she  was  darning.  She  said  "  she  always  took 
Time  by  the  forelock,"  and  the  little  girl  had  a 
fancy  some  time  she  would  drag  him  out.  She 
wondered  if  she  would  really  like  to  see  Time 
with  his  hour-glass  and  scythe,  and  all  his  bones 
showing. 

Mrs.  Underhill  looked  up  at  the  clock. 

"My  goodness,  Hanny!"  she  exclaimed,  "it's 
time  you  were  in  bed  half  an  hour  ago.  Put 
up  your  lace.  You'll  be  sleepy  enough  in  the 
morning. " 

The  little  girl  wound  it  round  her  needles  and 
then  stuck  the  ends  in  the  stem  of  the  spool  and 


THE  END  OF  THE  WORLD  143 

put  it  away  in  her  "basket.  She  kissed  Ben  and 
Jim  good-night,  and  followed  her  mother.  Her 
eyes  had  a  half-frightened  look  and  the  pupils 
were  very  large.  Mrs.  Underhill  felt  out  of  pa 
tience  that  there  should  be  so  much  talk  about 
the  world  coming  to  an  end  before  children.  She 
knew  Hanny  was  "  just  alive  with  terror. "  She 
couldn't  pretend  to  explain  anything  to  her;  she 
was  of  the  opinion  that  as  you  grew  older  "  you 
found  out  things  for  yourself. "  And  I  am  really 
afraid  she  didn't  believe  in  total  depravity  for 
sweet  little  girls  like  Hanny.  It  was  well  enough 
for  boys.  So  much  of  her  life  had  been  spent  in 
doing,  that  she  might  have  neglected  some  of  the 
"mint,  anise,  and  cummin."  She  undressed  the 
little  girl.  Oh,  how  fair  and  pretty  her  shoul 
ders  were,  and  her  round  white  arms  that  had  a 
dimple  at  the  top  of  the  elbow.  She  was  small 
for  her  age,  but  nice  and  plump,  and  her  mother 
felt  just  this  minute  as  if  she  would  like  to  cuddle 
her  up  in  her  arms  and  kiss  her  as  she  had  in 
babyhood.  If  she  had,  all  the  fear  would  have 
gone  out  of  the  little  girl's  heart. 

Hanny  said  her  prayer,  and  added  to  it,  "  Oh, 
Lord  Jesus,  please  don't  let  the  world  come  to  an 
end  to-night."  Then  her  mother  patted  down 
the  bed,  took  off  one  pillow  and  the  pretty  top 
quilt,  and  put  her  in,  kissing  her  tenderly,  the 
little  trembling  thing. 


144    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Then  she  stood  still  awhile. 

**I  do  wonder  what  I  did  with  your  red  coat," 
she  began.  "  Cousin  Cynthia  said  it  might  be  let 
down  and  do  for  this  winter.  There's  no  little 
girl  to  grow  into  your  clothes.  Let  me  see — I 
put  a  lot  of  things  in  this  closet.  I  remember 
pinning  them  up  in  linen  pillow-cases,  but  I 
meant  to  store  them  in  the  cedar  chest.  I  won 
der  if  I  have  been  that  careless. " 

She  stood  up  on  a  chair  and  threw  down  some 
bundles  with  unnecessary  force.  Then  she 
stepped  down  and  began  to  look  them  over,  keep 
ing  up  a  running  comment  She  would  not  have 
admitted  that  she  was  talking  against  time,  se 
cretly  hoping  the  little  girl  would  drop  off  to 
sleep.  But  the  coat  was  not  in  any  of  the 
bundles. 

"I  think  it  must  be  in  the  chest.  While  I'm 
about  it  I  may  as  well  go  and  see.  If  you  have 
outgrown  it,  it  could  be  made  over  into  a  dress ; 
it's  nice,  fine  merino,  a  little  thicker  than  I'd  buy 
for  a  dress,  but  your  father  would  have  just  that 
piece.  I'll  get  a  candle  and  go  up-stairs — I 
wouldn't  trust  a  glass  lamp  with  this  horrid 
burning-fluid  in  my  storeroom.  Hanny,  be  sure 
you  don't  get  up  and  touch  it,"  as  if  there  was 
the  slightest  possibility.  "  I'll  be  down  again  in 
five  minutes." 

That  was  a  shrewd  motherly  excuse  not    to 


THE  END  OF  THE  WORLD  145 

leave  the  little  girl  alone  in  the  dark,  though  she 
was  never  afraid. 

She  lay  there  very  still,  with  a  feeling  of  safety 
since  her  mother  was  up-stairs.  Of  course  she 
was  old  enough  to  know  a  great  many  things  and 
to  have  ideas  on  religious  subjects.  But  I  think 
the  Underbills  were  more  intelligent  than  intel 
lectual,  and  people  were  still  living  rather  simple 
lives,  not  yet  impregnated  with  ideas.  They  had 
not  had  the  old  Puritan  training,  and  the  ferment 
of  science  and  philosophy  and  transcendentalism 
had  not  invaded  the  country  places.  To-night  in 
the  city  there  were  wise  heads  proving  and  dis 
proving  the  times  and  half  times,  and  days  and 
signs,  but  they  really  had  no  interest  for  Mrs. 
Underbill,  who  was  training  her  family  the  best 
she  knew  how,  making  good  men  and  women. 

And  the  little  girl's  ideas  were  extremely 
vague.  She  thought  her  soul  was  that  part  of 
her  heart  that  beat.  When  it  ceased  beating  you 
died  and  the  body  was  left  behind ;  so  of  course 
that  was  what  went  to  heaven.  And  when  she 
had  been  naughty  or  when  she  had  left  something 
undone  and  was  hurrying  with  all  her  might  to  do 
it,  this  thing  beat  and  throbbed.  If  she  wanted 
something  very  much  and  was  almost  tempted  to 
take  it,  the  feeling  came  up  in  her  throat,  and 
she  knew  that  was  conscience.  She  was  trying 
now  to  recall  and  repent  of  her  sins,  and  oh,  she 


H6    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

did  so  wish  her  father  was  here.  Would  he  be 
back  before  the  end  came,  and  take  them  all  in 
his  strong  arms?  and  they  would  run — Oh,  no! 
they  were  to  be  caught  up  in  the  clouds.  But 
she  would  be  safe  where  he  was. 

Years  afterward,  she  was  to  understand  how 
human  and  finite  love  foreshadowed  the  eternal. 
But  then  she  could  only  believe,  and  her  faith  in 
her  human  father  was  the  rock  of  her  salvation. 

And  when  her  mother  came  down  she  had 
fallen  asleep,  but  she  thought  it  would  be  just 
as  well  to  leave  the  lamp  burning  until  Margaret's 
return.  She  would  look  in  now  and  then  to  see 
that  it  didn't  explode.  Burning-fluid  was  con 
sidered  rather  dangerous  stuff. 

Hanny  was  so  tired  that  she  slept  soundly.  It 
was  almost  midnight  when  the  folks  came  home, 
and  Mrs.  Underhill  begged  Margaret  to  go  to  bed 
quietly  and  not  disturb  her.  And  it  was  all  light 
with  the  sun  rising  in  the  eastern  sky  and  shining 
in  one  window  when  she  opened  her  eyes.  Mar 
garet  stood  before  the  glass  plaiting  her  pretty, 
long  hair. 

The  little  girl  sat  up.  Something  had  hap 
pened.  There  was  a  great  weight — a  great  fear. 
What  was  it?  Oh,  yes,  this  was  their  room;  they 
were  all  alive,  for  she  heard  Jim's  breezy  voice,  and 
Joe,  who  had  stayed  all  night,  said  impatiently : 

"  Peggy,  are  you  never  coming  down?" 


THE  END  OF  THE  WORLD  147 

Hanny  sprang  out  of  bed  and  clasped  her  little 
arms  about  her  sister. 

"Oh!"  with  a  great  exultation  in  her  sweet 
child's  voice — "the  world  didn't  come  to  an  end, 
did  it?  Oh,  you  beautiful  world!  I  am  so  glad 
you  are  left.  And  everybody — only — Margaret, 
were  the  people  at  the  church  dreadfully  disap 
pointed?  What  a  pity  God  couldn't  have  taken 
those  who  wanted  to  go;  but  I'm  so  glad  we  are 
left.  Oh,  you  lovely  world,  you  are  too  nice  to 
burn  up!" 

I  think  there  were  a  great  many  people  in  the 
city  just  as  glad  as  Hanny,  if  they  did  not  put  it 
in  the  same  joyful  words. 

Margaret  smiled.  "Hurry,  dear,"  she  said, 
"Joe  will  have  to  go,  and  I  know  he  wants  to 
see  you." 

Hanny  put  on  her  shoes  and  stockings,  and 
Margaret  helped  her  with  the  rest,  washed  her 
and  just  tied  up  her  hair  with  a  second-best  rib 
bon.  Joseph  had  eaten  his  breakfast  and  was 
impatiently  waiting  to  say  good-by.  John  was 
off  already. 

Nothing  had  happened.  The  world  was  going 
on  as  usual.  True  there  had  been  the  comet  and 
falling  stars  and  wars  and  rumors  of  wars,  but 
the  old  world  had  sailed  triumphantly  through 
them  all.  The  dear,  old,  splendid  world,  that 
was  to  grow  more  splendid  with  the  years. 


H8    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Perhaps  it  did  rouse  people  to  better  and  kind 
lier  living  and  more  serious  thought.  Before  Mr. 
Underhill  went  away  his  wife  said: 

"  'Milyer,  hadn't  you  better  look  after  those  old 
people  up  at  Harlem.  I  suppose  they  had  some 
garden  truck,  but  there's  flour  and  meat  and  little 
things  that  take  off  the  money  when  you  haven't 
much.  And  fuel.  I'll  try  to  go  up  some  day 
with  you  and  see  what  they  need  to  keep  them 
comfortable  in  cold  weather." 

The  girls  could  hardly  study  at  school,  there 
was  so  much  excitement.  Did  people  really  have 
on  their  ascension  robes?  What  would  Hester 
say? 

Hester  did  not  come  to  school  all  the  week. 
Of  course  they  had  made  a  mistake  in  computing 
the  time,  but  a  few  weeks  couldn't  make  much 
difference.  Still,  the  worst  scare  was  over,  and 
if  one  mistake  could  be  made,  why  not  another? 
Were  they  so  sure  all  the  signs  were  fulfilled? 


Cbapter  mine. 

A    WONDERFUL    SCHEME. 

THE  Whitneys  and  the  Underbills  became  very 
neighborly.  Mr.  Theodore  Whitney  often 
stopped  for  a  little  chat,  and  he  was  very  fond 
of  a  good  game  of  checkers  with  Steve  or  John. 
He  was  on  the  other  side  in  politics  and  they  had 
some  warm  discussions.  Ophelia,  the  oldest  girl, 
was  engaged  and  deeply  absorbed  with  her  lover. 
Frances  went  away  early  in  the  morning  and  did 
not  get  back  until  after  six.  Mrs.  Whitney,  a 
Southern  woman  by  birth,  was  one  of  the  easy 
going  kind  and  very  fond  of  novels.  Mr.  Whit 
ney  brought  them  home  by  the  dozen.  The 
house  seemed  somehow  to  run  itself,  with  the  aid 
of  Dele,  as  she  was  commonly  called. 

Dele  proved  a  powerful  rival  to  Miss  Lily  Lud- 
low.  Lily  was  much  prettier  and  more  delicate 
looking.  Dele  had  brown-red  hair,  dry  and 
curly.  She  was  a  little  freckled,  even  in  the  fall. 
Her  mouth  was  wide,  but  she  was  always  laugh 
ing,  and  she  had  such  splendid  teeth.  Then  her 
eyes  were  so  full  of  fun,  and  her  voice  had  a  sort 

149 


i5o    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

of  rollicking  sound.  She  knew  all  kinds  of  boys' 
play,  and  was  great  at  marbles.  Then  she  had 
so  many  odd,  entertaining-  things,  and  their  par 
lor  wasn't  too  good  for  use  when  'Phelia's  beau 
was  not  there.  But  the  children  lived  mostly  on 
the  stoop  and  the  sidewalk. 

Delia  went  to  Houston  Street  school.  She 
could  walk  farther  up  the  street  with  the  boys, 
and  watch  out  for  them  when  they  went.  Ben 
liked  her  better  than  he  did  Lily  or  Rosa,  but 
Jim  was  quite  divided.  He,  like  the  other  poor 
man  with  two  charmers,  sometimes  wished  there 
was  only  one  of  them.  But  Lily  was  a  born  co 
quette,  and  jealous  at  that.  She  had  a  way  of 
calling  back  her  admirers,  while  Dele  didn't  care 
a  bit  for  admiration,  but  just  wanted  a  good  time. 

Benny  Frank  was  something  of  a  bookworm 
and  student.  Jim,  who  was*  growing  very  fast, 
was  a  regular  boy,  and,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  did  not 
always  have  perfect  lessons.  He  was  so  very 
quick  and  correct  in  figures  that  he  managed  to 
slip  through  other  things.  Moreover  he  carried 
authority.  The  boys  had  called  him  "country" 
at  first  and  teased  him  in  different  ways  until 
small  skirmishes  had  begun.  And  one  day  there 
was  a  stand-up  fight  at  recess.  Jim  thrashed  the 
bully  of  his  class.  It  was  a  forbidden  thing  to 
fight  in  the  school-yard,  or  in  school  hours,  and 
so  Jim  was  thrashed  again  for  his  victory.  But 


A  WONDERFUL  SCHEME  151 

Mr.  Hazeltine  shook  hands  with  him ,  afterward 
and  said  "  it  wasn't  because  he  thrashed  Upton, 
but  because  he  had  broken  the  rules,  and  he 
liked  to  see  a  boy  have  courage  enough  to  stand 
up  for  himself."  So  Jim  did  not  mind  it  very 
much,  though  he  had  a  black  eye  for  two  or 
three  days. 

After  that  he  was  a  sort  of  hero  to  the  boys, 
and  Upton  did  not  bully  as  much.  But  some  of 
the  boys  delighted  to  "pick"  at  Benny  Frank, 
who  would  have  made  a  good  Quaker.  Jim  some 
times  felt  quite  "mad"  with  him. 

Lily  did  not  seem  to  get  along  very  rapidly  with 
her  intimacy.  Hanny  was  too  young,  and  now 
that  she  had  the  Deans  on  one  side  and  little 
Nora  Whitney  on  the  other,  was  quite  out  of 
Lily's  reach.  And  she  did  enjoy  Delia  im 
mensely,  though  she  was  past  thirteen  and  such 
a  tall  girl.  So  Lily  tried  all  her  arts  on  Jim,  and 
succeeded  very  well,  it  must  be  confessed. 

It  was  Saturday,  and  the  world  had  not  come  to 
an  end  yet.  Benny  had  gone  down-town  with 
Steve  in  the  morning,  but  he  would  not  have 
both  boys  together,  for  Jim  was  so  full  of 
"capers."  So  he  had  done  errands  for  his 
mother,  blackened  the  boots  and  shoes  —  the 
bootblack  brigade  had  not  then  come  in  fashion, 
and  you  hardly  ever  saw  an  Italian  boy.  He  had 
cleared  up  the  yard  and  earned  his  five  cents. 


152    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

He  was  wondering  a  little  what  he  would  do  all 
the  afternoon. 

Dele  came  flying  in,  eager  and  impetuous. 

"Oh,  Mrs.  Underbill!"  she  cried,  "can't  Hanny 
go  to  the  Museum  this  afternoon?  The" — it 
seemed  so  odd,  Hanny  thought,  to  call  grave- 
looking  Mr.  Whitney  that,  but  she  said  Steve  to 
her  big  brother.  "  The  brought  home  four  tickets. 
My  cousin,  Walter  Hay,  is  here,  and  he  will  go 
with  us  and  then  go  down  home.  And  Nora 
does  so  want  Hanny  to  go.  Oh,  won't  you  please 
let  her?  I'll  take  the  best  of  care  of  her.  I've 
taken  Nora  and  my  little  Cousin  Julia  ever  so 
many  times.  Oh,  Jim,  what  a  pity!  If  I  had 
one  more  ticket!" 

"Sho!"  and  Jim  straightened  himself  up.  "I 
have  twenty-eight  cents,  and  I  wouldn't  want  to 
go  sponging  on  a  girl  anyhow!  Oh,  mother,  do 
let  us  go?  Hanny,  come  quick!  Oh,  do  you 
want  to  go  to  the  Museum?" 

"To  the  Museum?"  Hanny  drew  a  breath  of 
remembered  delight  and  thrilling  anticipation. 

Dele  and  Jim  talked  together.  They  were  so 
earnest,  so  full  of  entreaty.  Jim  might  have 
gone  in  welcome,  but  Hanny 

"  Why,  we  shall  just  take  the  stage  and  ride  to 
the  door,  and  we'll  be  so  careful  getting  out. 
They  drive  clear  up  to  the  sidewalk,  you  know. 
Walter  is  fourteen  and  he  takes  his  little  sisters 


A  WONDERFUL  SCHEME  153 

out,  and  knows  how  to  care  for  girls.  And  there's 
such  a  pretty  play;  just  the  thing  for  children, 
The  said." 

"Oh,  mother,  please  do,"  and  the  little  girl's 
voice  was  so  persuasive,  so  pleading. 

"Oh,  please,  mother!  I'll  see  that  nothing 
happens  to  Hanny." 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Underbill,  Nora  would  be  so  disap 
pointed.  And  we  all  want  Hanny." 

Mrs.  Underbill  had  told  her  husband  if  he  would 
come  up  about  three  she  would  take  the  drive  to 
Harlem  with  him.  Of  course  she  meant  to  take 
the  little  girl.  Which  would  Hanny  rather  do? 

The  fascinations  of  the  Museum  outweighed  the 
drive.  Margaret  was  up  to  the  Beekmans'  spend 
ing  the  day,  their  last  week  on  the  farm.  Of  course 
Jim  could  go — and  when  she  looked  at  all  the  eager 
faces  she  gave  in,  and  Hanny  danced  with  delight. 

It  was  almost  three  before  they  could  get  off, 
and  the  play  began  at  that  hour.  However  they 
caught  a  stage  out  on  the  Bowery  and  were  soon 
whirled  down  to  the  corner  of  Broadway  and  Ann 
Street. 

People  were  crowding  in,  it  was  such  a  beauti 
ful  day,  and  this  was  considered  the  place  pre 
eminently  for  children.  People  who  would  have 
been  horrified  at  the  thought  of  a  theatre  did  not 
have  a  scruple  about  the  lecture-room. 

"We  better  not  stop  to  look  at  things,"  advised 


154    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Delia.  "  We  can  do  that  afterward.  Let's  go  in 
and  get  our  seats. " 

They  had  to  go  way  up  front,  but  they  didn't 
mind  that  so  long  as  they  were  all  together. 
They  studied  the  wonderful  Venetian  scene  on 
the  drop-curtain,  and  the  young  lad  in  a  sup 
posedly  green  satin  costume,  with  a  long  white 
feather  in  his  hat,  who  was  just  stepping  into  a 
gondola  where  a  very  lovely  lady  was  playing  on 
a  guitar.  Then  the  orchestra  gave  a  clash  of 
drums,  cymbals,  French  horns,  and  a  big  bass 
viol,  and  up  went  the  curtain. 

A  musical  family  came  out  and  sang.  Then 
there  were  some  acrobatic  performances.  After 
that  the  pantomime. 

Grandpapa  Jerome,  in  a  very  foreign  costume 
and  a  bald  head  which  he  tried  to  keep  covered 
with  a  black  velvet  cap,  had  two  extremely 
tricksy  sprites  for  grandchildren.  They  were 
very  pretty,  the  girl  with  long,  light  curls,  the 
boy  with  dark  ones.  But  of  all  mischief,  of  all 
tormenting  deeds  and  antics  with  which  they 
nearly  set  grandpapa  crazy  and  threw  the  audi 
ence  into  convulsions!  They  took  the  nice  fat 
boiled  ham  off  the  table  and  greased  the  doorstep 
so  thoroughly  you  would  have  thought  every  bone 
in  the  old  man's  body  would  have  been  broken  by 
the  repeated  falls.  They  cut  the  seat  out  of  the 
chair,  and  when  he  went  to  sit  down  he  doubled 


A  WONDERFUL  SCHEME  155 

up  equal  to  any  modern  folding-bed,  and  he 
kicked  and  turned  summersaults  until  the  maid 
came  out  and  rescued  him.  Then  he  spied  the 
author  of  the  mischief  asleep  on  a  grassy  bank, 
and  he  found  a  big  strap  and  went  creeping  up 
cautiously,  when — whack !  and  the  little  boy  flew 
all  to  pieces,  and  the  old  man  was  so  amazed  at 
his  cruelty  that  he  sat  down  and  began  to  weep 
and  bewail  when  the  little  lad  peeped  from  be 
hind  a  tree  and,  seeing  poor  grandfather's  grief, 
ran  out,  hugged  him  and  kissed  him  and  wiped 
his  eyes,  and  you  could  see  he  was  promising 
never  to  do  anything  naughty  again.  But  that 
didn't  hinder  him  from  cutting  out  the  bottom  of 
the  basket  into  which  the  old  man  was  cutting 
some  very  splendid  grapes.  There  were  not 
more  than  half  a  dozen  bunches,  and  the  children 
ran  away  with  them.  The  old  man  descended  so 
carefully,  put  his  hand  in  the  basket,  his  whole 
arm,  and  not  a  grape.  There  was  none  on  the 
ground.  Where  had  they  gone !  Oh,  there  was 
the  cat.  But  pussy  was  much  spryer  than  the 
old  man,  and  the  audience  knew  she  had  not 
touched  a  grape. 

After  that  some  Indians  came  on  the  scene  of 
action,  fierce  red  men  of  the  forest,  and  their  lan 
guage  was  decidedly  Jabber wocky.  The  little 
girl  was  quite  frightened  at  the  fierce  brandishing 
of  tomahawks.  Then  they  had  a  war  dance. 


156    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

And  oh,  then  came  the  marvel  of  all!  Four 
beautiful  Shetland  ponies  with  the  daintiest  car 
riage  and  six  lads  in  livery.  There  sat  General 
Tom  Thumb,  the  curiosity  of  the  time,  the  small 
est  dwarf  known.  He  was  not  much  bigger  than 
a  year-old  baby,  but  he  dismounted  from  his  car 
riage,  gave  orders  to  his  servants ;  a  bright-eyed 
little  fellow  with  rosy  cheeks,  graceful  and  with 
a  variety  of  pretty  tricks.  He  sang  a  song  or 
two,  then  sprang  into  his  carriage  and  the  ponies 
trotted  off  the  stage.  The  curtain  came  down. 

The  children  were  breathless  at  first.  The 
crowd  was  surging  out  and  the  place  nearly 
empty  before  they  found  their  tongues.  And  then 
there  was  so  much  else  to  see.  The  various 
stuffed  animals,  the  giraffe  with  his  three-story 
neck,  the  mermaid,  the  wax  figures,  the  birds  and 
beasts  and  serpents,  and  a  model  of  Paris,  of  Lon 
don,  and  of  Jerusalem.  The  place  looked  quite 
gorgeous  all  lighted  up. 

The  people  were  beginning  to  thin  out.  They 
had  not  seen  half,  Jim  thought. 

"Oh,  we  haven't  been  up-stairs!"  exclaimed 
Walter.  "There's  a  great  roof -garden.  And 
you  can  see  all  the  city." 

They  trudged  up-stairs.  Dele  kept  tight  hold 
of  the  little  girl's  hand.  It  was  quite  light  up 
here.  What  a  great  space  it  was!  One  large 
flag  was  flying,  and  around  the  edge  of  the  roof 


A  WONDERFUL  SCHEME  157 

numberless  smaller  ones.  Some  evergreen  shrubs 
in  boxes  stood  around,  and  there  were  wooden 
arm-chairs,  beside  some  settees.  It  was  rather 
chilly,  though  the  day  had  been  very  pleasant. 
And  oh,  how  splendid  the  lights  of  Broadway 
looked  to  them,  two  long  rows  stretching  up  and 
up  until  lost  in  indistinctness  The  stores  were 
all  open  and  lighted  as  brilliantly  as  one  could 
with  gas.  No  one  thought  of  Saturday  half-holi 
days  then.  It  was  very  grand.  But  what  would 
they  have  said  to  the  Columbian  nights  and  elec 
tric  lights? 

"  I  don't  feel  as  if  I  had  seen  it  half,"  said  Jim. 
He  was  not  grudging  his  quarter.  "  If  we  had 
come  about  one  o'clock." 

"We'll  have  to  piece  it  on  this  end,"  and  Wal 
ter  laughed.  "  We  must  get  our  money's  worth." 

"We  might  stay  over,"  suggested  Dele  mirth 
fully. 

"  Just  the  thing, "  returned  Jim,  "  and  all  for  the 
same  money." 

The  children  glanced  at  each  other  in  sudden 
surprise.  The  glory  of  a  grand  conspiracy  shone 
in  their  eyes. 

"Well,  that's  too  good!"  declared  Walter. 
"  Won't  I  just  brag  of  that  at  school  on  Monday. 
Oh,  yes,  let's  stay." 

"  We  had  better  go  down,  for  it  is  getting  cool 
up  here.  If  we  only  had  something  to  eat. 


158    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Hanny,  are  you  hungry?  I  don't  believe  Nora 
ever  knows  whether  she  has  eaten  or  not. 
Mother  says  she's  just  the  worst.  I  don't  mind 
a  bit,  but  you  all " 

"  I  wouldn't  give  a  copper  for  supper.  It's 
ever  so  much  more  fun  staying,"  rejoined  Walter. 

"I'm  always  nungry  as  a  bear,  but  I'd  a  hun 
dred  times  rather  stay,"  Jim  replied.  "Hanny, 
will  you  mind?" 

"I'm  not  a  bit  hungry,"  answered  Hanny. 
"It's  all  so  beautiful.  Oh,  do  let's  stay!" 

" That  settles  it.     Dele,  you  are  a  trump." 

They  picked  their  way  carefully  down- stairs. 
The  room  was  not  very  brilliantly  lighted,  but 
they  found  many  curiosities  that  had  escaped 
their  attention  before.  They  espied  the  diorama 
and  it  interested  them  very  much.  Half  a  dozen 
people  straggled  in.  The  janitor  turned  on  more 
light,  and  began  to  arrange  a  platform  in  a  re 
cess. 

How  any  one  would  feel  at  home  Jim  never 
thought.  The  rest  were  in  the  habit  of  doing 
quite  as  they  liked,  and  Delia  often  stayed  at  her 
aunt's  until  nine  o'clock. 

At  seven  the  main  hall  was  quite  full.  The 
people  were  crowding  up  around  the  platform. 
The  children  went  too.  The  curtain  was  swung 
aside  and  out  stepped  Tom  Thumb,  to  be  re 
ceived  with  cheers.  He  sang  a  song  and  went 


A  WONDERFUL  SCHEME  159 

through  with  some  military  evolutions.  There 
was  a  railing  around  and  no  one  could  crowd 
upon  him,  but  a  number  spoke  to  him  and  shook 
hands. 

"  My  little  girl,"  said  a  tall  gentleman  who  had 
watched  Hanny's  ineffectual  efforts  to  make  her 
self  taller,  "will  you  let  me  hold  you  up? 
Wouldn't  you  like  to  shake  hands?  You're  not 
much  bigger  yourself. " 

"Oh,  please  do,"  entreated  Dele  in  her  eager 
young  voice.  "  She  is  so  small.-" 

Hanny  was  a  little  startled,  but  the  man  held 
her  in  his  arms  and  she  smiled  hesitatingly.  As 
she  met  the  kindly  eyes  she  said,  "  Oh,  thank  you. 
It's  so  nice." 

The  general  came  down  that  end. 

"  Here  is  a  little  lady  wants  to  shake  hands  with 
you,"  the  gentleman  said,  who  was  quite  a  friend 
of  Tom  Thumb's. 

The  small  hand  was  proffered.  Hanny  was  al 
most  afraid,  but  she  put  hers  in  it  and  the  gallant 
little  general  hoped  she  was  well.  Then  he  made 
a  bow  and  retired  behind  the  curtain,  and  it  was 
announced  that  he  would  appear  again  after  the 
lecture -room  performance. 

They  went  in  and  took  their  seats.  Nora  was 
tired,  and  leaning  her  head  on  Dele's  shoulder 
went  sound  asleep.  Hanny  was  getting  tired; 
perhaps,  too,  she  missed  her  supper. 


160    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

It  wasn't  quite  so  much  fun,  for  the  play  was 
just  the  same.  The  audience  enjoyed  it  greatly. 
The  Indians  were  more  obstreperous,  and  sang  a 
hideous  song.  The  vocalists  sang  many  popular 
songs  of  the  day,  "Old  Dan  Tucker,"  "Lucy 
Long,"  "Zip  Coon,"  and  several  patriotic  songs. 
There  was  more  dancing  than  in  the  afternoon, 
and  the  boys  enjoyed  the  Juba  in  song  and  dance 
by  a  "real  slave  darkey"  who  had  been  made  so 
by  a  liberal  application  of  burnt  cork,  and  who 
could  clap  and  pat  the  tune  on  his  knee. 

They  did  not  stop  to  see  Tom  Thumb  again,  but 
went  straight  down-stairs.  Walter  said  good 
night  and  declared  he  had  had  a  splendid  time, 
and  Dele  must  thank  Cousin  The  again.  The 
four  others  bundled  into  the  stage,  which  was 
crowded,  but  some  kindly  disposed  people  held 
both  Nora  and  Hanny.  They  had  quite  a  habit  of 
doing  it  then. 

Jim  had  been  wondering  what  they  would  say 
at  home.  Of  course  he  knew  now  he  ought  not 
have  stayed.  But  nothing  had  happened,  and 
Hanny  was  all  right,  and — well,  he  would  face  the 
music  whatever  it  was.  If  Dele  could  be  trusted, 
why  not  he? 

There  had  been  a  good  deal  of  anxiety.  Mrs. 
Underhill  had  expected  them  home  by  six,  but 
their  father  said:  "Oh,  give  them  a  little  grace." 
But  when  seven  o'clock  came  she  went  down  to 


A  WONDERFUL  SCHEME  161 

Whitney's  to  inquire.  The  table  was  still  stand 
ing.  Mrs.  Whitney  sat  at  the  head  with  a  book 
in  her  hand ;  Dave,  the  second  son,  was  smoking 
and  reading  his  paper.  Both  girls  had  gone  out. 

"Oh,  Mrs.  Underbill,  don't  feel  a  bit  worried! 
They'll  come  home  all  safe.  I  shouldn't  wonder 
if  Dele  had  taken  them  over  to  her  aunt's,  and 
she'll  never  let  them  come  home  without  their 
supper.  She's  the  greatest  hand  for  children  I 
ever  saw.  And  Dele's  so  used  to  going  about. 
Then  everybody's  out  on  Saturday  night. 
Dear  me!  I  haven't  given  it  an  anxious  thought," 
declared  Mrs.  Whitney. 

But  Mrs.  Underhill  could  not  take  it  so  comfort 
ably. 

"  There's  so  many  of  them  we  should  hear  if 
anything  had  happened,"  said  John.  "  And  there 
is  no  use  looking,  for  we  shouldn't  know  where 
they  are;  Jim's  pretty  good  stuff  too,  for  a  coun 
try  boy.  Now,  mother,  don't  be  foolish." 

But  she  grew  more  and  more  uneasy.  If  she 
had  not  let  Hanny  go !  What  could  she  have  been 
thinking  of  to  do  such  a  thing? 

After  nine  Mr.  Underhill  walked  out  to  the 
Bowery,  and  watched  every  stage  that  halted  at 
the  corner.  Men,  women,  and  children  alighted, 
but  no  little  girl.  Oh,  where  could  she  be?  He 
felt  almost  as  if  the  world  was  coming  to  an  end. 

Then  a  familiar  group  all  talking  at  the  same 

XI 


162    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

time  stepped  out  on  the  sidewalk.  A  big  girl 
and  two  little  ones. 

"O  father,  father!"  cried  Hanny. 

He  wanted  to  hug  her  there  in  the  street.  It 
seemed  to  him  he  had  never  been  so  glad  and  re 
lieved  in  all  his  life,  or  loved  her  half  so  well. 

"Where  have  you  stayed  so  long?" 

"We  went  to  two  museums,"  said  Hanny,  be 
fore  the  elders  could  find  their  tongues.  "  And 
oh,  father,  we  saw  Tom  Thumb  and  he's  just  as 
little  and  cunning  as  a  baby !  And  he  shook  hands 
with  me.  A  gentleman  held  me  up.  It  was 
beautiful,  but  I'm  awful  tired." 

"  Oh,  were  you  troubled?"  cried  Delia.  "  Why 
didn't  you  just  go  in  to  ma  and  she  would  have 
told  you  that  I  always  come  up  right,  and  that 
nothing  ever  happens  to  me,  I'm  so  used  to  tak 
ing  care  of  children.  Why,  when  we  lived  down 
town  I  used  to  take  out  the  neighbors'  children — 
over  to  Staten  Island  and  to  Williamsburg,  and  al 
ways  brought  them  home  safely.  Then  we  hadn't 
half  seen  the  curiosities,  and  we  should  have 
missed  the  nice  time  with  that  lovely  little 
Tom  Thumb.  And  we  thought  it  such  capital 
fun!" 

Mr.  Underhill  really  could  not  say  a  word. 
Tired  as  she  was,  the  little  girl  was  full  of  delight. 
Jim  tried  to  make  some  explanations  and  take 
part  of  the  blame,  but  Delia  talked  them  all  down 


A  WONDERFUL  SCHEME  163 

and  was  so  fresh  and  merry  that  you  couldn't 
imagine  she  had  gone  without  her  supper. 

Mrs.  Underhill  stood  at  the  area  gate  with  a 
shawl  about  her  shoulders.  The  little  girl  let  go 
of  her  father's  hand  and  ran  to  her. 

"Dear  Mrs.  Underhill,"  began  Dele,  "I  expect 
you'll  almost  want  to  kill  me,  but  I  never  thought 
about  your  being  worried,  for  no  one  ever  worries 
about  me.  I  suppose  it  is  because  I  never  do  get 
into  any  danger.  And  you  must  not  scold  any 
one,  for  I  was  the  eldest,  except  Cousin  Walter, 
and  it  was  my  place  to  think,  but  I  didn't  one  bit. 
It  seemed  awful  funny,  you  know,  to  have  it  all 
over  for  the  same  money,  and  we  not  paying  any 
thing  at  all !  And  I  did  take  good  care  of  Hanny. 
She's  had  a  lovely  time — we  all  have.  And  please 
don't  scold  Jim.  He's  been  a  perfect  gentleman. 
We  didn't  do  anything  rude  nor  coarse,  and  every 
body  was  as  polite  to  us  as  if  we'd  been  Queen 
Victoria's  children.  And  so  good-night." 

"Jim,  your  father  ought  to  give  you  a  good 
thrashing.  The  idea!  I  wouldn't  have  believed 
any  child  of  mine  could  have  had  such  a  little 
sense."  his  mother  declared. 

I  don't  know  what  might  have  happened,  but 
just  then  Steve  and  Margaret  returned.  And 
when  Steve  caught  sight  of  Jim's  sober  face  and 
heard  the  story,  he  thought  it  very  boylike  and 
rather  amusing.  Besides,  it  seemed  a  pity  to 


1 64    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

spoil  the  good  time.  So  he  laughed,  and  told  Jim 
he  had  cheated  Mr.  Barnum  out  of  a  quarter,  and 
that  he  would  have  to  save  up  his  money  to  make 
it  good. 

"  And  he  owes  me  nine  cents  toward  the  omni 
bus  ride.  He  must  pay  me  that  first,"  said  his 
mother  sharply. 

"I  wasn't  admitted  twice"  rejoined  Jim.  "It 
is  the  admittance.  I  didn't  see  any  notice  about 
not  staying,  and  I  don't  believe  I  really  owe  Mr. 
Barnum  another  quarter. " 

"Jim,  I  think  I'll  educate  you  for  a  lawyer. 
You  have  such  a  way  of  squirming  out  of  tight 
places." 

They  all  laughed. 

"Mother,  do  give  the  children  some  supper," 
said  their  father. 

"  Here,  Jim,  pay  your  mother."  Steve  laid  him 
down  sixpence  and  three  pennies.  We  had  Mexi 
can  sixpences  and  shillings  in  those  days. 
"  You'll  have  enough  on  your  mind  without  that 
debt.  And  next  time  think  of  the  folks  at 
home. " 

"  Why  didn't  the  Whitneys  feel  worried?  Oh, 
thank  you,  Steve. " 

"  It  did  beat  all,"  said  Mrs.  Underbill.  "  There 
Mrs.  Whitney  sat  reading  a  novel " 

"Perhaps  it  was  her  French  exercise,"  inter 
rupted  Steve,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye. 


A  WONDERFUL  SCHEME  165 

"  It  was  no  such  thing !  It  was  a  yellow-covered 
novel!"  I  don't  know  why  they  persisted  in  put 
ting  novels  in  pronounced  yellow  covers  to  betray 
people,  unless  it  was  that  publishers  wouldn't  use 
false  pretences.  And  to  put  a  story  in  the  fatal 
color  made  it  as  reprehensible  to  most  people  as 
a  yellow  aster.  "And  such  a  table!"  Mrs.  Un- 
derhill  caught  her  breath.  "  Everything  at  sixes 
and  sevens,  and  the  cloth  looking  as  if  it  had  been 
used  a  month,  and  Mrs.  Whitney  as  unconcerned 
as  if  the  children  had  only  gone  down  to  the  cor 
ner.  I  declare  I  couldn't  be  so — so " 

"  But  they're  a  jolly  lot.  They  save  a  great 
deal  of  strength  in  not  worrying.  And  they  know 
Dele  is  trusty.  She's  a  smart  girl,  too." 

"Well,  I  wouldn't  want  any  of  my  sons  to 
marry  girls  brought  up  as  those  Whitney s." 

"  Hear  that,  Jim.     You  are  fairly  warned. " 

Jim  turned  scarlet. 

"Jim  will  have  to  be  in  better  business  many  a 
year  than  thinking  of  girls,"  subjoined  his  mother 
decisively. 

The  little  girl  didn't  seem  very  hungry.  She 
ate  her  bread-and-milk  and  talked  over  the  de 
lights  of  the  afternoon,  and  her  enjoyment  molli 
fied  her  mother  a  good  deal.  Jim  considered  at 
first  whether  it  wouldn't  rather  even  up  things  if 
he  went  without  his  supper,  but  the  biscuits  and 
the  boiled  beef  were  so  tempting,  and  in  those 


1 66    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

days  boys  could  eat  the  twenty-four  hours  round. 
People  were  wont  to  say  they  had  the  digestion 
of  an  ostrich.  But  I  think  if  you  had  tried  them 
on  nails  and  old  shoes  the  ostrich  would  have 
gone  up  head. 

"  Oh,  do  you  see  how  late  it  is?  I  know  Hanny 
will  be  sick  to-morrow!  And  Jim,  you'll  have 
the  doctor's  bill  to  pay." 

"Oh,  no,"  said  Hanny  with  a  smile,  "Joe  has 
promised  to  doctor  me  for  nothing. " 

Mrs.  Underbill  lost  her  point.  Jim  wanted  a 
good  laugh,  but  he  thought  it  would  hardly  be 
prudent. 

Of  course  something  ought  to  have  happened  to 
impress  their  wrong-doing  on  the  children.  But 
it  didn't.  They  were  all  well  and  bright  the  next 
morning.  Mr.  Theodore  Whitney  took  occasion 
to  say  that  he  hoped  the  Underbills  wouldn't  feel 
offended.  It  was  just  a  young  people's  caper,  and 
he  thought  it  rather  amusing. 

Mrs.  Whitney  said  in  the  bosom  of  her  house 
hold:  "Well,  I  wonder  that  Mrs.  Underbill  has 
an  ounce  of  fat  on  her  bones  if  she's  worried  that 
way  about  her  eight  children!  I  always  felt  to 
trust  mine  to  Providence." 

Jim  "gave  away"  the  thing  at  school,  and  was 
quite  a  hero.  But  some  of  the  boys  had  crawled 
under  a  circus  tent.  And  a  circus  was  simply 
immense ! 


A  WONDERFUL  SCHEME  167 

Lily  Ludlow  said,  out  of  her  bitterest  envy,  "  I 
shouldn't  have  thought  you  would  let  a  girl  take 
you  out,  Jim  Underbill!" 

"  She  didn't  take  me !  I  bought  my  own  ticket. 
And  there  was  her  cousin " 

"  Well — if  you  like  that  style  of  people — and  red 
hair — and  Dele  Whitney  has  no  more  figure  than 
a  post!  I  wouldn't  be  such  a  fat  chunk  for  any 
thing!  And  her  clothes  are  just  wild." 

"  Of  course  you're  ever  so  much  the  prettiest. 
And  I  wish  we  could  go  to  the  Museum  together, 
just  us  two. "  Jim  thought  it  would  be  fine  to 
take  out  one  girl. 

That  mollified  Lily  a  little. 

"  And  I  just  wish  you  lived  up  by  our  house. 
It  seems  so  easy  then  to  come  in.  And  when  you 
once  get  real  well  acquainted — intimate  like — • 
well,  you  know  I  like  you  better  than  any  girl  in 
school;"  though  Jim  wondered  a  little  if  it  was 
absolutely  true. 

"  Do  you,  really?"  The  eyes  and  the  smile  al 
ways  conquered  him.  She  made  good  use  of  both. 

"  Oh,  you  know  I  do." 

Chris  didn't  see  why  she  couldn't  get  ac 
quainted  with  Margaret.  She  wanted  her  mother 
to  call,  but  Mrs.  Ludlow  said,  "I've  more  friends 
now  than  I  can  attend  to."  And  Miss  Margaret 
seemed  to  hold  up  her  head  so  high.  Then  Mr. 
Stephen  was  going  to  marry  in  the  Beekman 


168    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

family.  And  Chris  wondered  why  Mr.  John 
didn't  go  in  some  store  business  instead  of  learn 
ing  a  carpenter's  trade. 

Hester  Brown  was  out  of  school  a  week.  Mrs. 
Craven  had  begged  the  girls  not  to  tease  her,  but 
after  a  few  days  she  announced  that  a  mistake 
had  been  made  in  the  calculation — some  people 
thought  three  years  —  but  the  end  was  sure. 
However  three  years  seems  a  lifetime  to  children. 


Cbapter  ZTen. 

A   MERRY    CHRISTMAS. 

GEORGE  UNDERBILL  came  down  and  made  a 
nice  long  visit.  He  felt  he  liked  his  own  home 
people  a  little  the  best,  but  his  heart  was  still  set 
on  farming.  Thanksgiving  came  after  a  lovely 
Indian  summer,  such  as  one  rarely  sees  now. 
Then  each  State  appointed  its  own  Thanksgiving, 
and  there  were  people  who  boasted  of  partaking 
of  three  separate  dinners. 

After  that  it  was  cold.  The  little  girl  had  a 
good  warm  cloak  and  hood  and  mittens,  and  it 
was  nothing  to  run  to  school.  She  studied  and 
played,  and  knew  two  pretty  exercises  on  the 
piano.  Jim  and  Benny  Frank  grew  like  weeds. 
But  Benny  somehow  "  gave  in"  to  the  boys,  and 
two  or  three  of  the  school  bullies  did  torment  him. 

"I'd  just  give  it  to  them!"  declared  Jim.  "I 
wouldn't  be  put  upon  and  called  baby  and  a  molly 
coddle  and  have  that  Perkins  crowding  me  off  the 
line  and  losing  marks.  I'd  give  him  such  a  right 
hander  his  head  would  hum  like  a  swarm  of  bees. " 

It  was  not  because  Benny  was  afraid.  But  he 
169 


170    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

was  a  peace-loving  boy  and  he  thought  fighting 
brutal  and  vulgar.  His  books  were  such  a  de 
light.  He  liked  to  go  in  and  talk  to  Mr.  Theo 
dore,  as  they  all  called  the  eldest  Whitney  son. 
Mr.  Theodore  in  his  newspaper  capacity  had 
found  out  so  many  queer  things  about  old  New 
York,  they  really  called  New  York  that  in  early 
1800.  He  had  such  wonderful  portfolios  of  pic 
tures,  and  nothing  in  the  Whitney  house  was  too 
good  to  use. 

Hanny  often  went  in  as  well.  And  though 
Dele  was  such  a  harum-scarum  sort  of  girl,  she 
was  good  to  the  children  and  found  no  end  of 
diversions  for  them.  Nora  was  a  curious,  grave 
little  thing,  and  her  large  dark  eyes  in  her  small, 
sallow  face  looked  almost  uncanny.  She  devoured 
fairy  stories  and  knew  many  of  the  mythological 
gods  and  goddesses.  They  had  a  beautiful  big 
cat  called  Old  Gray.  It  really  belonged  to  Mr. 
Theodore,  but  Nora  played  with  it  and  tended  it, 
and  dressed  it  up  in  caps  and  gowns  and  shawls 
and  carried  it  around.  It  certainly  was  a  lovely 
tempered  cat.  Hanny  was  divided  in  her  affec 
tion  between  the  Deans'  dolls  and  Nora's  cat. 
The  play-house  was  too  cold  to  use  now,  and  Mrs. 
Dean  objected  to  having  it  all  moved  down  to 
her  sewing-room.  But  Mr.  Theodore's  room  had 
a  delightful  grate,  a  big  old  lounge,  a  generous 
centre-table  where  the  girls  used  to  play  house 


A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  171 

under  the  cover,  and  such  piles  of  books  every 
where,  so  many  pictures  on  the  wall,  such  curious 
pipes  and  swords  and  trophies  from  different 
lands.  You  really  never  knew  whether  it  was 
cleared  up  or  not,  and  the  very  lawlessness  was 
attractive. 

Sometimes  they  sat  in  the  big  rocker,  that  would 
hold  both,  and  they  would  divide  the  cat  between 
them  and  sing  to  her.  Occasionally  kitty  would 
tire  of  such  unceasing  attention,  and  emit  a  long, 
appealing  m-i-e-u.  If  Mr.  Theodore  was  there — 
and  he  never  seemed  to  mind  the  little  girls  play 
ing  about — he  would  say,  "  Children,  what  are  you 
doing  to  that  cat?"  and  they  would  no  longer  try 
to  divide  her,  but  let  her  curl  up  in  her  own 
fashion. 

"  Oh,  mother!"  said  the  little  girl,  one  rainy  af 
ternoon  when  she  had  to  stay  in,  "  couldn't  we  have 
a  Sunday  cat  that  didn't  have  to  stay  out  in  the 
stable  and  catch  mice  for  a  living?  Nora's  is  so 
nice  and  cunning  and  you  can  talk  to  it  just  as  if 
it  was  folks.  And  you  can't  quite  make  dolls, 
folks.  You  have  to  keep  making  b'lieve  all  the 
time." 

"  Martha  doesn't  like  cats.  And  Jim  would 
torment  it  and  plague  you  continually.  And  you 
know  I  wouldn't  let  Jim's  little  dog  come  in  the 
house." 

"  But  so  many  people  do  have  cats." 


»72    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"  There's  hardly  room  with  so  many  folks.  You 
wait  until  Christmas  and  see  what  Santa  Claus 
brings  you,"  said  her  mother  cheerily. 

There  came  a  little  snow  and  the  boys  brought 
out  their  sleds.  For  two  days  the  air  was  alive 
with  shouts  and  snowballing,  and  then  it  was  like 
a  drift  of  gray  sand  alongside  of  the  street  gutter. 
But  winter  had  fairly  set  in.  Stoves  were  up. 

In  the  back  room  at  the  Underbills'  they  had  a 
fire  of  logs  on  the  hearth,  and  it  was  delightful. 

Ben  was  tormented  more  and  more.  The  boys 
knocked  off  his  cap  in  the  gutter  and  made  up 
rhymes  about  him  which  they  sang  to  any  sort  of 
tune.  This  was  one : 

"Benjamin  Franklin  Underbill, 
Was  a  little  boy  too  awfully  still : 
Forty  bears  came  out  of  the  wood, 
And  ate  up  the  boy  so  awfully  good. " 

"  Come  out  from  under  that  hill, "  while  some  boy 
would  reply,  "Oh,  he  dassent!  He's  afraid  his 
shadder'll  meet  him  in  the  way." 

One  day  he  came  home  with  his  pocket  all  torn 
out.  Perkins  had  slipped  a  crooked  stick  in  it 
and  given  it  what  the  boys  called  a  "  yank. " 

"  Go  in  and  ask  your  mother  for  a  needle  and 
thread.  You'll  make  a  good  tailor!"  he  jeered. 

"  What  is  all  this  row  about?"  asked  his  mother, 
who  was  in  the  front  basement. 


A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  173 

Ben  held  out  his  jacket  ruefully,  and  said,  "  Per 
kins  never  would  leave  him  alone. " 

Jim  had  complained  and  said  Ben  always 
showed  the  white  feather.  Mrs.  Underhill 
couldn't  endure  cowards.  She  was  angry,  too,  to 
see  his  nice  winter  jacket  in  such  a  plight. 

"  Benny  Frank,  you  just  march  out  and  thrash 
that  Perkins  boy,  or  I'll  thrash  you!  I  don't  care 
if  you  are  almost  as  tall  as  I  am.  A  great  boy  of 
fifteen  who  can't  take  his  own  part!  I  should 
be  ashamed!  March  straight  out!" 

She  took  him  by  the  shoulder  and  turned  him 
round,  whisked  him  out  in  the  area  before  he 
knew  where  he  was.  She  would  not  have  him  so 
meek  and  chicken-hearted. 

Ben  stood  a  moment  in  surprise.  Jim  had  been 
scolded  for  his  pugnacity.  Perkins  was  always 
worse  when  Jim  wasn't  around. 

"Goon!"  exclaimed  his  mother. 

Ben  walked  out  slowly.  The  boys  were  down 
the  street.  If  they  would  only  go  away.  He 
passed  the  Whitneys  and  halted.  He  could  res 
cue  hounded  cats  and  tormented  dogs,  and  once 
had  saved  a  little  child  from  being  run  over.  But 
to  fight — in  cold  blood ! 

"  Oh,  here  comes  my  Lady  Jane !"  sang  out  some 
one. 

"She's  quite  too  young — 
To  be  ruled  by  your  false,  nattering  tongue." 


174    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"  Sissy,  wouldn't  your  mother  mend  your  coat? 
Keep  out  of  the  way  of  the  ragman!" 

Perkins  was  balancing  himself  on  one  foot  on 
the  curbstone. 

"Come  on,  Macduff!"  he  cried  tragically. 

Macduff  came  on  with  a  quick  step.  Before  the 
boys  could  think  he  strode  up  to  Perkins  and  with 
a  well-directed  blow  landed  him  in  the  sloppy 
ddbris  of  snow  and  mud,  where  the  children  had 
been  making  a  pond.  And  before  he  could  re 
cover  Ben  was  upon  him,  roused  to  his  utmost. 
The  boys  were  nearly  of  a  size.  They  rolled  over 
and  over  amid  the  plaudits  of  their  companions, 
and  Ben,  who  hated  dirt  and  mud  and  all  untidi 
ness,  didn't  mind  now.  He  kept  his  face  pretty 
well  out  of  the  way,  and  presently  sat  on  his  ad 
versary  and  held  one  hand,  grasping  at  the 
other. 

The  boys  cheered.  A  fight  was  a  fight,  if  it  was 
between  the  best  friends  you  had. 

"Beg,"  said  Ben. 

"  I'll  see  you  in  Guinea  first!" 

Ben  sat  still.  The  kicks  were  futile.  With 
such  a  heavy  weight  breathing  was  a  difficult 
matter. 

"You  —  you  —  if  you'd  said  fight  I'd 
a-known "  and  Perkins  gasped. 

"Oh,  let  up,  Ben.  You've  licked  him!  We 
didn't  think  'twas  in  you.  Come — fair  play." 


A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  175 

"There's  a  good  deal  in  me,"  cried  Ben  stur 
dily.  "And  I'm  going  to  sit  here  all  night  till 
Perkins  begs.  I've  a  good  seat.  You  boys  keep 
out.  'Tisn't  your  fight.  And  you  all  know  I 
hate  fighting.  It  may  do  for  wild  animals  in  a 
jungle. " 

Ben's  lip  was  swelling  a  little.  A  tooth  had 
cut  into  it.  But  his  eyes  were  clear  and  sparkling 
and  his  whole  face  was  resolute.  Perkins'  at 
tempts  at  freeing  his  hands  grew  more  feeble. 

"  Boys,  can't  you  help  a  fellow?" 

"  'Twas  a  fair  thing,  Perk.  You  may  as  well 
own  up  beat.  Come,  no  snivelling." 

Quite  a  crowd  was  gathering.  There  was  no 
policeman  to  interfere. 

Perkins  made  a  reluctant  concession.  Ben 
sprang  up  and  was  off  like  a  shot.  His  mother 
met  him  at  the  door. 

"Go  up-stairs  and  put  on  your  best  clothes, 
Ben,"  she  said,  "and  take  those  down  to  the 
barn. "  She  knew  he  had  come  off  victor. 

"I  s'pose  I'd  had  to  do  it  some  time,"  Ben 
thought  to  himself.  "  Mother's  awful  spunky 
when  she's  roused.  I  hope  I  won't  have  to  go  on 
and  lick  the  whole  crew !  I  just  hate  that  kind  of 
work." 

As  he  came  down  his  mother  kissed  him  on  the 
white  forehead,  but  neither  said  a  word. 

When  he  went  in  to  see  Mr.   Theodore  that 


176    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

evening  he  told  him  the  story.  It  was  queer,  but 
he  would  not  have  admitted  to  any  one  ?lse  his 
mother's  threat.  Mr.  Theodore  laughed  and  said 
boys  generally  had  to  make  their  own  mark  in 
that  fashion.  Then  he  thought  they  would  try  a 
game  of  chess,  as  Ben  knew  all  the  moves. 

Jim  was  surprised  and  delighted  to  hear  the 
story  the  next  day.  He  nodded  his  head  with  an 
air  of  satisfaction. 

"Ben's  awful  strong,"  he  said.  "He  could 
thrash  any  boy  of  his  size.  But  he  isn't  spoiling 
for  a  fight." 

A  few  days  later  there  came  a  real  snow-storm 
of  a  day  and  a  night.  Jim  sprung  the  old  joke  on 
Hanny  "  that  they  were  all  snowed  up,  and  the 
snow  was  over  the  tops  of  the  houses. "  She  ran 
to  the  window  in  her  night-dress  to  see.  Oh,  how 
beautiful  it  was !  The  red  chimneys  grew  up  out 
of  the  white  fleece,  the  windows  were  hooded,  the 
trees  and  bushes  were  long  wands  of  soft  white 
ness,  the  clothes-line  posts  wore  pointed  caps. 

"  Don't  stand  there  in  the  cold,"  said  Margaret. 

They  all  turned  out  to  shovel  snow.  The  areas 
were  full.  The  sidewalks  all  along  were  being 
cleared,  and  it  made  a  curious  white  wall  in  the 
street.  Mr.  Underhill  insisted  that  the  boys 
should  level  theirs.  Some  wagons  tried  to  get 
through  and  made  an  odd,  muffled  sound.  Then 
there  was  the  joyful  jingle  of  bells.  The  sun 


A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  17- 

came  out  setting  the  world  in  a  vivid  sparkle, 
while  the  sky  grew  as  blue  as  June. 

Not  to  have  snow  for  Christmas  would  have 
spoiled  the  fun  and  been  a  bad  sign.  People 
really  did  believe  "  a  green  Christmas  would  make 
a  fat  graveyard. "  It  was  so  much  better  in  the 
country  to  have  the  grain  and  meadows  covered 
with  the  nice  warm  mantle,  for  it  was  warm  to 
them. 

Father  Underbill  took  the  little  girl  to  school, 
for  all  the  walks  were  not  cleared.  Men  and 
boys  were  going  around  with  shovels  on  their 
shoulders,  offering  their  services. 

"  I  could  earn  a  lot  of  money  if  I  didn't  have  to 
go  to  school  to-day,"  said  Jim,  with  a  longing  look 
at  the  piles  of  snow.  "  If  it  only  was  Saturday!" 

But  there  was  no  end  of  fun  at  school.  The 
boys  began  two  snow-forts,  and  the  snowballing 
was  something  tremendous.  The  air  was  crisp 
and  cold,  and  it  gave  everybody  red  cheeks. 

Before  night  the  stage  sleighs  were  running, 
for  the  omnibuses  really  couldn't  get  along. 
Steve  came  home  early  to  take  the  boys  and 
Hanny  out.  Hanny  still  wore  the  red  cloak  and 
a  pretty  red  hood  and  looked  like  a  little  fairy. 

They  went   over  to  the   Bowery.      You    can 

hardly  imagine  the  gay  sight  it  was.     Everything 

that  could  be  put  on  runners  was  there,  from  the 

dainty    cutter    to    the    lumbering   grocery    box 

la 


178     A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

wagon.  And  oh,  the  bells  on  the  frosty  air !  It 
was  enough  to  inspire  a  hundred  poets. 

There  were  four  horses  to  the  long  sleigh. 
Steve  found  a  seat  and  took  the  little  girl  on 
his  lap,  covering  her  with  an  extra  shawl.  The 
boys  dropped  down  on  their  knees  in  the  straw. 
It  was  a  great  jam,  but  everybody  was  jolly  and 
full  of  good-natured  fun.  Now  and  then  a  young 
ster  threw  a  snowball  that  made  a  shower  of 
snow  in  the  sleigh,  but  the  passengers  shook  it  off 
laughingly. 

They  went  down  to  the  Battery  and  just  walked 
across.  Castle  Garden  was  a  great  white  mound. 
Brooklyn  looked  vague  and  ghostly.  The  ship 
ping  was  huddled  in  the  piers  with  fleecy  rigging, 
and  only  a  few  brave  vessels  were  breasting  the 
river,  bluer  still  than  the  sky.  And  here  there 
was  such  a  splendid  turnout  it  looked  like  a 
pageant. 

They  came  up  East  Broadway.  The  street 
lamps  were  just  being  lighted.  They  turned  up 
Columbia  Street  and  Avenue  D,  and  stopped 
when  they  came  to  Houston  Street.  A  man  on 
the  corner  was  selling  hot  waffles  as  fast  as  half  a 
dozen  men  could  bake  them,  and  a  colored  woman 
had  a  stand  of  hot  coffee  that  scented  up  the  air 
with  its  fragrance. 

They  had  to  walk  up  home,  but  Steve  carried 
Hanny  over  all  the  crossings.  It  was  a  regular 


A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  179 

carnival.  The  children  decided  snow  in  New 
York  was  ever  so  much  more  fun  than  snow  in 
the  country. 

But  after  a  few  days  they  settled  to  it  as  a  reg 
ular  thing,  though  the  sleighs  were  flying  about 
in  their  tireless  fashion,  making  the  air  musical 
with  bells.  And  Christmas  was  coming. 

It  really  was  Christmas  then.  Not  to  have 
hung  up  your  stocking  would  have  been  an  insult 
to  the  sweetest,  merriest,  wisest,  tenderest  little 
man  in  the  world.  There  were  some  fireplaces 
left  for  him  to  come  down,  and  he  was  on  hand 
promptly. 

And  such  appetizing  smells  as  lurked  in  every 
corner  of  the  house!  Fruit  cake,  crullers  and 
doughnuts,  and  mince  pies !  Everybody  was  busy 
from  morning  till  night.  When  Hanny  went  to 
the  kitchen  some  one  said,  "  Run  up-stairs,  child, 
you'll  be  in  the  way  here,"  and  Margaret  would 
hustle  something  in  her  apron  and  say,  "  Run 
down-stairs,  Hanny  dear,"  until  it  seemed  as  if 
there  was  no  place  for  her. 

The  Dean  children  were  busy,  too.  But  Nora 
Whitney  didn't  seem  to  have  anything  to  do  but 
nurse  dear  Old  Gray  and  read  fairy  stories.  Delia 
told  them  Ophelia  was  to  be  married  Christmas 
morning,  and  "  they  were  going  over  to  his  folks 
in  Jersey  to  spend  a  week." 

"But  it  won't  make  a  bit  of  difference,"  Delia 


i8o    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

announced.  "  Frank  has  a  steady  beau  now  and 
they'll  take  the  parlor.  And  then,  I  suppose,  it'll 
be  my  turn.  I  shall  just  hate  to  be  grown  up  and 
have  long  skirts  on  and  do  up  my  hair,  and  be  so 
fussy  about  everything.  When  I  think  of  that  I 
wish  I  was  a  boy. " 

The  little  girl  wondered  if  Margaret  would  get 
married  next  Christmas.  Her  gowns  were  quite 
long  now,  and  she  did  have  a  grown-up  air.  It 
seemed  years  since  last  Christmas.  So  many 
things  had  happened. 

The  cousins  were  to  come  down  from  Tarry- 
town  and  make  a  visit,  and  Aunt  Patience  and 
Aunt  Nancy  were  to  come  up  from  Henry  Street 
for  the  Christmas  dinner.  If  they  only  could 
bring  the  cat ! 

"  Merry  Christmas !  Merry  Christmas!"  some 
one  shouted  while  it  was  still  dark.  Hanny  woke 
out  of  a  sound  sleep.  ''Merry  Christmas,"  said 
Margaret  with  a  kiss. 

"Oh  dear,  I  shan't  get  ahead  of  anybody,"  she 
sighed.  "  Do  you  think  I  could  get  up,  Peggy?" 

"  I  must  light  a  candle,"  Margaret  said. 

"  Come  down  and  see  what's  in  your  stocking, 
Han!"  shouted  Jim. 

Margaret  sprang  out  of  bed  and  put  on  the  lit 
tle  girl's  warm  woollen  wrapper  and  let  her  go 
down.  She  ran  eagerly  to  her  mother's  room, 
and  her  father  made  believe  asleep  that  she  might 


A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  181 

wake  him  up.     She  wanted  to  wish  some  one 
Merry  Christmas  the  first  of  all. 

Two  wax  candles  were  burning  in  the  back 
room  and  the  fire  was  crackling.  There  were 
stockings  and  stockings,  and  hers  were  such  little 
mites  that  some  one  had  hung  a  white  bag  on  the 
brass  nail  that  held  the  feather-duster,  and 
marked  it  "For  Hanny."  And  a  box  lay  in  a 
chair.  . 

There  was  a  cruller  man  with  eyes,  nose,  and 
mouth.  There  were  candies  galore,  the  clarified 
ones,  red  and  yellow,  idealized  animals  of  all 
kinds.  There  was  an  elegant  silver  paper  cor 
nucopia  tied  with  blue  ribbons.  There  was  a  box 
of  beautiful  pop-corn  that  had  turned  itself  inside 
out.  Ribbon  for  her  hair,  a  paint-box,  a  case  of 
Faber  pencils,  handkerchiefs,  a  lovely  new  pink 
merino  dress,  a  muff  that  purported  to  be  ermine, 
a  pair  of  beautiful  blue  knit  slippers  tied  with 
ribbons.  These  didn't  come  from  Santa  Claus, 
for  they  had  on  a  card — "  With  best  love  and  a 
Merry  Christmas,  from  Dolly."  That  was  Dolly 
Beekman.  Hanny  laid  them  up  against  her  face 
and  kissed  them,  they  were  so  soft  and  beautiful. 

She  drew  a  long  breath  before  she  opened  the 
box.  Of  course  it  couldn't  be  a  real  live  kitty. 
John  and  Steve  were  coming  in  at  the  door. 

"Merry  Christmas!"  she  shouted  with  the  boys. 
They  were  not  so  very  far  ahead  of  her. 


1 82    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Steve  caught  her  under  the  arms  and  held  her 
almost  up  to  the  ceiling,  it  seemed.  She  was  so 
little  and  light. 

"  Ten  kisses  before  you  can  come  down." 

She  paid  the  ten  kisses,  and  would  have  given 
twice  the  number. 

"I'm  trying  to  guess  what  is  in  the  box."  She 
looked  perplexed  and  a  crease  came  between  her 
eyes. 

''It's  a  chrononhontontholagosphorus!" 

"A — what?"     Her  face  was  a  study. 

The  boys  shouted  with  laughter. 

"  Yes,  Joe  sent  it.  Santa  Claus  had  given  his 
all  out,  and  Joe  had  to  skirmish  around  sharp  to 
get  one." 

"  Is  it  alive?"  she  asked  timidly,  her  eyes  grow 
ing  larger  with  something  that  was  almost 
fright. 

"Oh,  Steve!"  said  Margaret,  in  an  upbraiding 
tone.  "Boys,  you're  enough  to  frighten  one." 

Steve  untied  the  string  and  took  off  the  cover. 
Hanny  had  tight  hold  of  her  sister's  hand.  Steve 
lifted  some  tissue  paper  and  tilted  up  the  box. 
There  lay  a  lovely  wax  doll  with  golden  hair,  a 
smiling  mouth  that  just  betrayed  some  little 
teeth,  eyes  that  would  open  and  shut.  She  was 
dressed  in  light-blue  silk  and  beautiful  lace. 
Though  her  mother  had  said  she  was  too  big  to 
have  a  doll,  Joe  knew  better. 


A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  183 

She  was  almost  speechless  with  joy.  Then  she 
knelt  down  beside  it  and  took  one  pretty  hand. 

"  Oh, "  she  said,  "  I  wish  you  could  know  how 
glad  I  am  to  have  you!  There's  only  one  thing 
that  could  make  me  any  gladder,  that  would  be 
to  have  you  alive!"  Steve  winked  his  eyes  hard. 
Her  delight  was  pathetic. 

Then  she  had  to  see  the  boys'  Christmas. 
Benny  Frank  had  a  new  suit  of  clothes,  Jim  had 
a  pair  of  boots,  which  was  every  boy's  ambition 
then,  and  an  overcoat.  And  lots  of  books,  pen 
cils,  gloves,  and  the  candy  it  would  not  have  been 
Christmas  without. 

Mr.  Underbill  poked  up  the  fire  and  took  the 
little  girl  on  his  knee.  Mrs.  Underhill  put  out 
the  candles,  for  it  was  daylight,  and  then  went 
down  to  help  get  breakfast.  Cousin  Fannie  and 
Roseann,  as  Mrs.  Eustis  was  always  called,  came 
in  and  had  to  express  their  opinion  of  everything. 
Then  breakfast  was  ready. 

John  went  down  in  the  sleigh  for  Aunt  Patience 
and  Aunt  Nancy  Archer.  They  were  not  own 
sisters  but  sisters-in-law  and  each  had  a  comforta 
ble  income.  It  did  not  take  very  much  to  make 
people  comfortable  then.  They  owned  their 
house  and  rented  some  rooms. 

Hanny  had  to  go  in  and  see  Josie  and  Tudie 
Dean's  Christmas  and  bring  them  in  to  inspect 
hers.  Then  Dele  and  Nora  Whitney  were  her 


1 84    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

next  callers.  Nora  had  a  silk  dress  ana  a  gold 
ring  with  a  prettily  set  turquoise. 

"The  marriage  was  at  ten,"  began  Dele,  "and 
it  was  just  nothing  at  all.  I  wouldn't  be  married 
in  such  a  doleful  way.  She  just  had  on  a  brown 
silk  dress  with  lots  of  lace,  and  white  gloves,  and 
the  minister  came  and  it  was  all  over  in  ten  min 
utes.  There  was  wedding-cake  and  wine.  I've 
brought  you  in  some  to  dream  on.  Nora  and  I 
are  going  down  to  Auntie's  in  Beach  Street  where 
there's  to  be  a  regular  party  and  a  Christmas  tree 
and  lots  of  fun.  After  'Phelia  comes  back  she's 
going  to  have  a  wedding-party  and  wear  her  real 
wedding-dress." 

Nora  thought  the  doll  beautiful.  Hanny  just 
lifted  it  out  of  the  box  and  put  it  back.  It  seemed 
almost  too  sacred  to  touch. 

Jim  went  out  presently  to  get  some  Christmas 
cake.  The  grocers  and  bakers  treated  the  chil 
dren  of  their  customers  to  what  was  properly 
New  Year's  cake,  and  the  boys  thought  it  no  end 
of  fun  to  go  around  and  wish  Merry  Christ 
mas. 

The  dinner  was  at  two.  Doctor  Joseph  came 
in  to  dine  and  to  be  congratulated  by  the  cousins. 
The  little  girl's  gratitude  and  delight  was  very 
sweet  to  him.  He  put  up  the  piano  stool  and  she 
played  her  pretty  little  exercises  for  him.  Then 
about  four  he  and  Steve  went  down  to  the  Beek- 


A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  185 

mans',  where  there  was  a  dancing  party  in  the 
evening. 

The  elders  sat  and  talked,  to  Benny  Frank's 
great  delight.  The  "  old  times"  seemed  so  won 
derful  to  the  children.  Aunt  Patience  was  the 
elder  of  the  two  ladies,  just  turned  seventy  now, 
and  had  lived  in  New  York  all  her  life.  She  had 
seen  Washington  when  he  was  the  first  President 
of  the  United  States,  and  lived  in  Cherry  Street 
with  Mrs.  Washington  and  the  two  Custis  children. 
Afterward  they  had  removed  to  the  Macomb 
House.  Everything  had  been  so  simple  then, 
people  going  to  bed  by  nine  o'clock  unless  on 
very  special  occasions.  To  go  to  the  old  theatre 
on  John  Street  was  considered  the  height  of  fash 
ionable  amusement.  You  saw  the  Secretaries 
and  their  families,  and  the  best  people  in  the 
city. 

But  what  amused  the  children  most  was  the 
Tea  Water  Pump. 

"You  see,"  said  Aunt  Patience,  "we  had  nice 
cisterns  that  caught  rainwater  for  family  use,  and 
we  think  now  our  old  cistern-water  is  enough 
better  than  the  Croton  for  washing.  There  were 
a  good  many  wells  but  some  were  brackish  and 
poor,  and  people  were  saying  then  they  were  not 
fit  to  use.  The  Tea  Water  pump  was  on  the  cor 
ner  of  Chatham  and  Pearl,  and  particular  people 
bought  it  at  a  penny  a  gallon.  It  was  carried 


i86    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

around  in  carts,  and  you  subscribed  regularly. 
My,  how  choice  we  were  of  it!" 

"There's  a  pump  down  here  at  the  junction 
that's  just  splendid!"  said  Jim,  "I  used  to 
go  for  water  last  summer,  it  was  so  good  and 
cold. " 

"We  miss  our  nice  spring  at  home,"  said  Mrs. 
Underbill,  with  a  sigh. 

"And  what  else?"  subjoined  Ben. 

"Oh,  the  milk  did  not  go  round  in  wagons. 
There  were  not  half  so  many  people  to  supply. 
We  kept  a  cow  and  sold  to  our  neighbors.  The 
milkmen  had  what  was  called  a  yoke  over  their 
shoulders,  with  a  tin  can  at  each  end.  They  used 
to  cry,  'Milk  ho!  ye-o!'  The  garbage  man  rang 
his  bell  and  you  brought  out  your  pail.  A  few 
huckster  men  were  beginning  to  go  round,  but 
Hudson  Market  was  the  place  to  buy  fresh  vege 
tables  that  came  in  every  morning.  And,  oh, 
there  were  the  chimney-sweeps!" 

"We  had  our  chimney  swept  here,"  said  Jim. 
"  The  man  had  a  long  jointed  handle  and  a  wiry 
brush  at  the  end." 

"  But  then  there  were  little  negro  boys  who 
climbed  up  and  down  and  sometimes  scraped 
them  as  they  went.  But  several  were  smothered 
or  stuck  fast  in  London  and  it  was  considered 
cruel  and  dangerous.  You'd  hear  the  boys  in  the 
morning  with  their  'Sweep  ho!'  and  you  wouldn't 


A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  187 

believe  how  many  variations  they  could  make  to 
it." 

"  Poor  little  boys!"  said  Hanny.  "  Didn't  they 
get  awful  black  and  sooty?" 

The  boys  laughed.  "  They  were  black  to  begin 
with,"  said  Jim.  "All  they  had  to  do  was  to 
shake  themselves." 

"  And  how  do  you  suppose  Santa  Claus  keeps 
so  clean?"  asked  the  little  girl,  nothing  daunted. 

That  was  a  poser.     No  one  could  quite  tell. 

"  We  used  to  burn  out  our  chimney,"  announced 
Aunt  Patience. 

"  Burn  it  out?" 

"Yes.  We'd  take  a  rather  lowering  day,  or 
start  in  just  as  it  was  beginning  to  rain.  We'd 
put  a  heap  of  straw  in  the  fireplace  and  kindle  it, 
and  the  soot  would  soon  catch.  Then  some  one 
would  go  up  on  the  roof  to  see  if  the  sparks 
caught  anywhere.  We  never  let  it  get  very  dirty. 
But  presently  they  passed  a  law  that  no  one 
should  do  it  on  account  of  the  danger.  But  some 
times  chimneys  caught  fire  by  accident,"  and 
Aunt  Patience  laughed. 

"  Why,  it  was  like  the  wolf  in  little  Red  Riding 
Hood,"  declared  Hanny. 

Then  they  all  talked  of  the  old  roads  and  streets 
and  the  Collect,  which  was  a  great  marshy  pond, 
and  the  canal  through  Lispenard's  meadows  over 
to  the  North  River,  where  present  Canal  Street 


runs.  In  the  Collect  proper  there  was  a  beautiful 
clear  lake  where  people  went  fishing.  A  great 
hill  stood  on  Broadway,  and  had  to  be  cut  down 
more  than  twenty  feet. 

Father  Underhill  recalled  his  first  visit  to  the 
city  when  he  was  nineteen,  and  going  skating 
with  some  cousins.  And  now  it  was  all  graded 
and  finished  streets,  houses,  and  stores. 

But  Aunt  Patience  said  it  was  time  to  go  home, 
and  they  planned  for  the  Morgan  cousins  to  come 
and  spend  the  day.  They  were  to  bring  the  little 
girl  with  them. 

They  had  a  light  supper  and  then  John  escorted 
the  ladies  home.  Benny  Frank  wanted  his  father 
to  tell  some  more  incidents  of  the  old  times.  The 
little  girl  was  tired  and  sleepy  and  ready  to  go  to 
bed,  but  she  had  one  wish  saved  up  for  next 
Christmas  already — a  set  of  dishes. 


:     Cbapter  Eleven. 

THE    LITTLE   GIRL   IN    POLITICS. 

A  WHOLE  week  of  holidays!  Jim  and  Benny 
Frank  had  their  mother  almost  wild,  and  Martha 
said  "she  would  be  dead  in  another  week.  If 
Christmas  came  twice  a  year  there  would  be  no 
money  nor  no  people  left.  They  would  be  all 
worn  out." 

It  was  splendid  winter  weather.  Sunny  and 
just  warm  enough  to  thaw  and  settle  the  snow 
during  the  day  and  freeze  it  up  again  at  night. 
Then  there  came  another  small  fall  of  snow  to 
whiten  up  the  streets  and  make  the  air  gayer  than 
ever  with  bells. 

The  Morgan  cousins  had  to  go  down  and  call 
on  Miss  Dolly  Beekman,  and  were  very  favorably 
impressed  with  her.  The  little  girl  went  with 
them  to  Cherry  Street  and  had  "  just  a  beautiful 
time  with  the  kitty,"  she  told  her  mother.  Her 
blue  woollen  frock  was  full  of  white  cat-hairs  as  a 
memento.  She  went  to  tea  with  the  little  Dean 
girls,  she  spent  an  afternoon  with  Nora,  and  had 
the  little  girls  in  to  visit  her.  Margaret  played 
189 


190    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

on  the  piano  and  they  had  a  charming  dance,  be 
side  playing  "  Hot  butter  blue  beans,"  which  was 
no  end  of  fun. 

On  New  Year's  Day  everybody  had  "calls." 
Margaret  was  hardly  considered  a  young  lady, 
but  Miss  Cynthia  came  to  help  entertain.  It  was 
really  very  pleasant.  A  number  of  family  relatives 
called  in,  some  of  whom  they  had  not  seen  since 
they  came  to  the  city.  They  were  all  rather 
middle-aged,  though  Joe  brought  in  his  chum,  a 
very  handsome  young  man  who  had  graduated 
with  his  class  but  was  two  years  older.  Margaret 
was  quite  abashed  by  Doctor  Hoffman's  attention 
•to  her,  and  his  saying  he  should  take  her  good 
wishes  as  a  happy  omen  for  his  New  Year.  In 
deed,  she  was  very  glad  to  have  Miss  Cynthia 
come  to  the  rescue  in  her  airy  fashion. 

Late- in  the  afternoon  the  Odells  drove  down. 
The  little  girls  went  up-stairs  to  see  the  Christmas 
things  and  the  lovely  doll  for  whom  no  name  had 
been  good  enough.  John  had  a  fire  in  his  room 
and  it  was  nice  and  warm,  so  he  told  them  they 
might  go  up  there.  They  played  "  mother"  and 
"  visiting,"  and  wound  up  with  a  splendid  game  of 
"  Puss  in  the  Corner. "  There  were  only  four  pus 
sies  and  they  could  have  but  three  corners,  but  it 
was  no  end  of  fun  dodging  about,  and  if  they 
did  squeal,  the  folks  down  in  the  parlor  hardly 
heard  them. 


THE  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  POLITICS         191 

Saturday  was  Saturday  everywhere.  It  was 
"  Ladies'  day"  too.  But  people  had  to  clear  up 
their  houses  and  begin  a  new  week,  a  new  year, 
as  well,  for  it  was  1844. 

The  little  girl  wondered  what  made  the  years. 
Mrs.  Craven  explained  that  the  recurrence  of  the 
four  seasons  governed  them,  and  some  rather 
learned  reasons  the  child  could  not  understand. 
But  she  said : 

"  It  seems  to  me  the  year  ought  to  begin  in 
spring  and  not  the  middle  of  the  winter. " 

Ophelia  came  home,  she  was  Mrs.  Davis  now, 
and  they  had  a  grand  party  with  music  and  danc 
ing  and  a  supper,  and  Nora  wore  her  pretty  new 
silk  frock.  Then  Mrs.  Davis  went  down-town  to 
be  near  her  husband's  business,  and  started  house 
keeping  in  three  rooms. 

The  next  great  event  on  the  block  was  a  chil 
dren's  party.  They  were  children  then  until  they 
were  at  least  sixteen.  Miss  Lily  Ludlow  and  her 
sister  had  ten  dollars  sent  to  each  of  them  as  a 
Christmas  gift.  Chris  went  out  straightway  and 
bought  a  new  coat.  Lily's  was  new  the  winter 
before.  There  were  a  great  many  things  she 
needed,  but  most  of  all  she  wanted  a  party.  She 
had  been  to  two  already. 

"What  a  silly  idea!"  said  her  father. 

But  Lily  kept  tight  hold  of  her  idea  and  her 
money,  and  the  last  of  January,  with  Chris'  help, 


192    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

she  brought  it  about.  They  took  the  bedstead 
out  of  the  back  parlor  and  changed  the  furniture 
around.  And  though  her  mother  called  it  foolish 
ness,  she  baked  some  tiny  biscuits  and  made  a 
batch  of  crullers  and  boiled  a  ham.  Lily  bought 
fancy  cakes,  mottoes,  candies,  and  nuts,  and  a  few 
oranges  which  were  very  expensive. 

The  Underhill  boys  were  invited,  of  course. 
Benny  said  "he  didn't  believe  he  would  go.  He 
shouldn't  know  what  to  do  at  a  party." 

"Why,  follow  your  nose,"  laughed  Jim.  "Do 
just  as  the  rest  do.  Don't  be  a  gump!" 

"  And  I  hate  to  be  fooling  round  girls. " 

"You  don't  seem  to  mind  Dele  Whitney. 
You're  just  cracked  about  her." 

I  don't  know  how  the  boys  of  that  day  managed 
without  the  useful  and  pithy  word  "  mashed. " 

"It's  no  such  thing,  Jim  Underhill!  She's  al 
ways  down-stairs  with  her  mother.  I  go  in  to  see 
Mr.  Theodore;"  yet  Ben's  face  was  scarlet. 

"  You  know  you  like  her, "  teasingly. 

"  I  do  like  her.  And  it's  awful  mean  not  to  ask 
her  when  she's  in  the  same  crowd  and  lives  on 
the  block.  But  she  doesn't  care.  She  wouldn't 
go." 

"  Sour  grapes. "    Jim  made  a  derisive  face. 

"  You  shut  up  about  it. " 

"  Don't  get  wrathy,  Benjamin  Franklin. " 

When  his   mother  said    "Benny    Frank,"  he 


THE  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  POLITICS         193 

thought  it  the  best  name  in  the  whole  world. 
Perhaps  part  was  due  to  his  mother's  tone.  And 
Ben  was  a  splendid  boy's  name.  But  his  school 
mates  did  torment  him.  They  asked  him  if  he 
had  finished  his  roll,  and  if  he  had  any  to  give 
away.  They  pestered  him  about  flying  his  kite, 
and  inquired  what  he  said  to  the  King  of  France 
when  he  went  abroad — if  it  was  "parley  vous  de 
donkey."  If  there  is  anything  the  average  school 
boy  can  turn  into  ridicule  he  does  it.  When  Jim 
wanted  to  be  exasperating  he  gave  him  his  whole 
name.  And  then  Ben  wished  he  had  been  called 
plain  John,  even  if  there  had  been  two  in  the 
family. 

But  the  day  of  the  party  Jim  coaxed  him,  and 
Jim  could  be  irresistible.  Then  Margaret  said: 
"  Oh,  yes,  I  think  I  would  go.  She  fixed  up  both 
of  the  boys,  and  scented  their  handkerchiefs  with 
her  "triple  extract,"  and  hoped  they  would  have 
a  nice  time,  insisting  that  one  needn't  be  afraid 
of  girls. 

Of  course  they  did,  especially  Jim.  He  was 
in  for  all  the  fun  and  frolic,  and  the  kissing  didn't 
worry  him  a  bit  when  the  "forfeits"  were  an 
nounced.  He  didn't  mind  how  deep  he  "stood 
in  the  well,"  nor  how  high  the  tree  was  from 
which  they  "  picked  cherries. "  Ben  could  rise  to 
an  emergency  if  he  was  not  praying  for  it  every 
moment. 
13 


194    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Chris  was  a  great  card.  She  could  not  help 
wishing  that  she  knew  enough  young  people  in 
her  social  round  to  ask  to  a  party.  There  were 
enough  young  ladies,  but  a  "hen  party"  wasn't 
much  fun.  She  made  herself  very  agreeable  to 
the  Underhill  boys,  and  wished  in  the  sweetest 
of  tones  "that  she  did  know  their  sister  Mar 
garet." 

There  were  a  good  many  imperfect  lessons 
the  next  day,  but  the  party  was  the  great  topic. 
Hosts  of  girls  were  "  mad. " 

"  I  couldn't  ask  everybody.  The  house 
wouldn't  hold  them,"  declared  Lily.  But  she 
took  great  comfort  in  thinking  she  had  "  paid  out" 
several  girls  against  whom  she  had  a  little  grudge. 
And  the  "left-outs"  declared  they  wouldn't  have 
gone  anyhow.  It  must  be  admitted  that  the 
party  did  advance  Lily  socially. 

The  family  had  hardly  recovered  from  this 
spasm  of  gayety  when  Stephen  insisted  that  Mar 
garet  should  go  to  a  Valentine's  ball  at  the  Astor 
House,  to  be  given  to  the  ladies  by  a  club  of 
bachelors.  He  was  going  to  take  Dolly.  Mrs. 
Bond  would  be  there,  and  Dolly  came  up  to  coax 
her  prospective  mother-in-law.  "  Margaret  had 
not  gone  into  any  society  and  was  only  a  school 
girl,  altogether  too  young  to  have  her  head  filled 
with  such  nonsense,"  with  many  more  reasons 
and  conjunctions.  Dolly  was  so  sweet  and  per- 


'95 

suasive,  and  said  the  simplest  white  gown  would 
do,  young  girls  really  didn't  dress  much.  Then 
Margaret  would  have  it  ready  for  her  graduation. 
They  would  be  sure  to  send  her  home  early  and 
take  the  best  of  care  of  her. 

Joe  said :  "  Why,  of  course  she  must  go.  It 
wasn't  like  being  among  strangers  with  Dolly  and 
her  people."  So  the  boys  and  Dolly  carried  the 
day.  All  the  while  Margaret's  heart  beat  with 
an  unaccustomed  throb.  She  did  not  really  know 
whether  she  wanted  to  go  or  not. 

St.  Valentine's  Day  was  held  in  high  repute 
then.  You  sent  your  best  girl  the  prettiest  valen 
tine  your  purse  could  afford,  and  she  laid  it  away 
in  lavender  to  show  to  her  children.  Bashful 
young  fellows  often  asked  the  momentous  ques 
tion  in  that  manner.  There  were  some  lovely 
ones,  with  original  verses  written  in,  for  there 
were  young  bards  in  those  days  who  struggled 
over  birthday  and  valentine  verses,  and  who 
would  have  scorned  second-hand  protestations. 

Though  Margaret  didn't  get  any  valentines  the 
little  girl  received  three  that  were  extremely 
pretty.  She  asked  Steve  if  he  didn't  send  one. 

"Oh,  dear,"  he  answered,  as  if  he  were  amazed 
at  the  question,  "  I  had  to  spend  all  my  money 
buying  Dolly  one."  And  Joe  pretended  to  be  so 
surprised.  He  had  spent  his  money  for  Mar 
garet's  sash  and  gloves  and  bunch  of  flowers. 


196    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Even  John  would  not  own  up  to  the  soft  impeach 
ment  and  declared,  "  Your  lovers  sent  them. " 

"  But  I  haven't  any  lovers,"  said  the  little  girl, 
in  all  innocence. 

She  used  to  read  them  to  her  mother,  and  ask 
her  which  she  thought  came  from  Steve,  which 
from  Joe  and  John.  It  was  quite  funny,  though, 
that  Nora  Whitney  had  one  exactly  like  one  of 
hers.  And  even  Mr.  Theodore  declared  he  didn't 
send  them. 

Margaret  looked  like  an  angel,  the  little  girl 
thought.  Her  white  cashmere  frock  was  simply 
made,  with  a  lace  frill  about  the  neck  and  at  the 
edge  of  the  short  sleeves.  Her  broad  blue  satin 
sash  was  elegant.  Miss  Cynthia  came  and  plaited 
her  beautiful  hair  in  a  marvellous  openwork  sort 
of  braid,  and  she  had  two  white  roses  and  a  silver 
arrow  in  it.  Her  slippers  were  white  kid,  her 
gloves  had  just  a  cream  tint,  and  Miss  Cynthia 
brought  her  own  opera  cloak,  which  was  light 
brocaded  silk,  wadded  and  edged  with  swans- 
down. 

Joe  looked  just  splendid,  the  little  girl  decided. 
If  she  could  only  have  seen  Dolly ! 

The  Beekman  coach  was  sent  up  for  Margaret, 
who  kissed  her  little  sister  and  went  off  like  Cin 
derella! 

"  Oh,  do  you  suppose  she  will  meet  the  king's 
son?"  asked  Hanny,  all  excitement. 


THE  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  POLITICS         197 

"Oh,  child,  what  nonsense!"  exclaimed  her 
mother. 

It  wasn't  the  king's  son;  but  young  Doctor 
Hoffman  was  there,  and  Margaret  danced  several 
times  with  him.  They  talked  so  much  about  Joe 
that  Margaret  felt  very  friendly  with  him. 

After  that  the  world  ran  on  in  snow,  in  sunshine, 
and  in  rain.  The  days  grew  longer.  March  was 
rough  and  blowy.  Mother  Underhill  had  to  go 
up  in  the  country  for  a  week,  for  Grandfather 
Van  Kortlandt  died.  He  had  been  out  of  health 
and  paralyzed  for  a  year  or  two.  Aunt  Katrina 
had  been  staying  there,  and  they  would  go  on  in 
the  old  house  until  spring.  She  was  grand 
mother's  sister.  Of  course  no  one  could  feel  very 
sorry  about  poor  old  Uncle  Nickie,  as  he  was 
called.  He  had  always  been  rather  queer,  and 
was  no  comfort  to  himself,  for  he  had  lost  his 
mind,  but  everybody  admitted  that  grandmother 
had  done  her  duty,  and  the  Van  Kortlandt  chil 
dren,  grown  men  and  women,  thanked  her  for  all 
her  good  care. 

Oh,  what  fun  the  children  had  on  the  first  of 
April!  What  rags  were  pinned  to  people — what 
shrieks  of  "  My  cat's  got  a  long  tail !  "  And  there 
on  the  sidewalk  would  lay  a  tempting  half-dollar 
with  a  string  out  of  sight,  and  when  the  pedes 
trian  stooped  to  pick  it  up — presto !  how  it  would 
vanish.  When  one  enterprising  wight  put  his 


198    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

foot  on  it  and  picked  it  up  triumphantly  the  boys 
called  out : 

"  April  fool !  That's  an  awful  sell,  mister !  It's 
a  bad  half-dollar." 

They  watched  and  saw  him  bite  it  and  throw  it 
down.  Then  they  went  after  it  and  had  their  fun 
over  and  over  again.  Stephen  had  given  the  half- 
dollar  to  Jim  with  strict  injunctions  not  to  at 
tempt  to  pass  it  or  he'd  get  a  "hiding,"  which  no 
one  ever  did  in  the  Underhill  family.  Mrs.  Un- 
derhill  declared  "  'Milyer  was  as  easy  as  an  old 
shoe,  and  she  didn't  see  what  had  kept  the  chil 
dren  from  going  to  ruin. "  Joe  always  insisted  "  it 
was  pure  native  goodness." 

Then  they  called  out  to  the  carters  and  other 
wagoners:  "  Oh,  mister,  say !  Your  wheel 'sgoin' 
round!"  And  sometimes  without  understanding 
the  driver  would  look  and  hear  the  shout. 

They  had  another  trick  they  played  out  in  the 
Bowery.  Boys  had  a  reprehensible  trick  of  "  cut 
ting  behind,"  as  the  stages  had  two  steps  at  the 
back,  and  the  boys  used  to  spring  on  them  and 
steal  rides.  It  was  such  a  sight  of  fun  to  dodge 
the  whip  and  spring  off  at  the  right  moment. 
Sometimes  a  cross-grained  passenger  who  had 
been  a  very  good  boy  in  his  youth  would  tell. 

On  this  day  they  didn't  steal  the  ride.  They 
called  out  with  great  apparent  honesty :  "  Cuttin' 
behind,  driver — two  boys!" 


THE  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  POLITICS         199 

Then  the  driver  would  slash  his  whip  furiously, 
and  even  the  passers-by  would  enjoy  the  joke. 
Of  course  you  could  only  play  that  once  on  each 
driver. 

Altogether  it  was  a  day  of  days.  You  were 
fooled,  of  course;  no  one  was  smart  enough  to 
keep  quite  clear.  But  almost  everybody  was 
good-natured  about  it.  Martha  found  some  eggs 
that  had  been  "blown,"  and  a  potato  filled  with 
ashes,  and  there  were  inventions  that  would  have 
done  credit  to  the  "pixies." 

The  little  girl  would  not  go  out  to  play  in  the 
afternoon,  and  she  didn't  even  run  when  Jim  said, 
"Nora  wanted  her  for  something  special."  But 
she  really  had  no  conscience  about  fooling  her 
father  several  times.  He  pretended  to  be  so  sur 
prised,  and  said,  "  Oh,  you  little  witch!"  It  was  a 
day  on  which  you  had  need  to  keep  your  wits 
about  you. 

Then  with  the  long  days  and  the  sunshine  came 
so  many  things.  Little  girls  skipped  rope  and 
rolled  hoops,  their  guiding-sticks  tied  with  a 
bright  ribbon.  The  boys  had  iron  hoops  and  an 
iron  guider,  and  they  made  a  musical  jingle  as 
they  went  along.  There  were  kites  too,  but  you 
didn't  catch  Benny  Frank  flying  one.  And  mar 
bles  and  ball.  In  the  afternoon  the  streets  seemed 
alive  with  children.  But  what  would  those  peo 
ple  have  said  to  the  five-story  tenement-houses 


200    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

with  their  motley  crew!  Then  Ludlow  and  Allen 
and  many  another  street  wore  such  a  clean  and 
quaint  aspect,  and  the  ladies  sat  at  their  parlor 
windows  in  the  afternoon  sewing  and  watching 
their  little  ones. 

"  Ring-a-round-a-rosy"  began  again.  And  dear 
me,  there  were  so  many  signs!  You  must  not 
step  on  a  crack  in  the  nagging  or  something 
dreadful  would  happen  to  you.  And  you  mustn't 
pick  up  a  pin  with  the  point  toward  you  or  you 
would  surely  be  disappointed.  If  the  head  was 
toward  you,  you  could  pick  it  up  and  make  a  wish 
which  would  be  sure  to  come  to  pass.  You  must 
cut  your  finger-nails  Monday  morning  before 
breakfast  and  you  would  get  a  present  before  the 
week  was  out.  And  if  you  walked  straight  to 
school  that  morning  you  were  likely  to  have  good 
lessons,  but  if  you  loitered  or  stopped  to  play  or 
were  late,  bad  luck  would  follow  you  all  the  week. 
And  the  little  girls  used  to  say: 

"Lesson,  lesson,  come  to  me, 
Monday,  Tuesday,  Wednesday,  three, 
Thursday,  Friday,  then  you  may 
Have  a  rest  on  Saturday, " 

So  you  see  a  little  girl's  life  was  quite  a  weighty 
matter. 

That  summer    political  excitement  ran  high. 
Indeed,  it  had  begun  in  the  winter.     A  new  party 


THE  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  POLITICS         201 

had  nominated  Mr.  James  Harper  for  mayor,  and 
in  the  spring  he  had  been  elected.  Mr.  Theodore 
used  to  pause  and  discuss  men  and  measures  now 
that  it  was  getting  warm  enough  to  sit  out  on  the 
stoop  and  read  your  paper.  Country  habits  were 
not  altogether  tabooed.  But  what  impressed  his 
honor  the  mayor  most  strongly  on  the  little  girl's 
mind  was  something  Aunt  Nancy  Archer, "who 
was  now  an  earnest  Methodist,  said  when  she  was 
up  to  tea  one  evening. 

"  I  did  look  to  see  Brother  Harper  set  up  a 
little.  It's  only  natural,  you  know,  and  I  can't 
quite  believe  in  perfection.  But  there  he  was  in 
class-meeting,  not  a  mite  changed,  just  as  friendly 
and  earnest  as  ever,  not  a  bit  lifted  up  because  he 
had  been  called  to  the  highest  position  in  the  city." 

"There's  no  doubt  but  he  will  make  a  good 
mayor,"  rejoined  Mr.  Underbill.  "He's  a  good, 
honest  man.  And  all  the  brothers  are  capable 
men,  men  who  are  able  to  pull  together.  I'm 
not  sure  but  we'll  have  to  go  outside  of  party  lines 
a  little.  It  ought  to  broaden  a  man  to  be  in  a  big 
city. " 

The  little  girl  slipped  her  hand  in  Aunt 
Nancy's. 

"  Is  he  your  school-teacher?"  she  ventured 
timidly. 

"  School-teacher?    Why,  no,  child!"  in  surprise. 

"  You  said  class " 


202    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"  You'll  have  to  be  careful,  Aunt  Nancy.  That 
little  girl  has  an  inquiring  mind,"  laughed  her 
father. 

"Yes.  It's  a  church  class.  I  belong  to  the 
same  church  as  Brother  Harper.  We're  old- 
fashioned  Methodists.  We  go  to  this  class  to  tell 
our  religious  experiences.  You  are  not  old 
enough  to  understand  that.  But  we  talk  over 
our  troubles  and  trials,  and  tell  of  our  blessings 
too,  I  hope,  and  then  Brother  Harper  has  a  good 
word  for  us.  He  comforts  us  when  we  are  down 
at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  and  he  gives  us  a  word  of 
warning  if  he  thinks  we  are  climbing  heights 
we're  not  quite  fitted  for.  He  makes  a  comfort 
ing  prayer." 

"  I  should  like  to  see  him,"  said  the  little  girl. 

"Well,  get  your  father  to  bring  you  down  to 
church  some  Sunday.  Do,  Vermilye." 

"  Any  time  she  likes,"  said  her  father. 

They  talked  on,  but  Hanny  went  off  into  a  little 
dreamland  of  her  own.  She  was  not  quite  clear 
what  a  mayor's  duty  was,  only  he  was  a  great 
man.  And  her  idea  of  his  not  being  set  up,  as 
Aunt  Nancy  had  phrased  it,  was  that  there  was  a 
great  handsome  chair,  something  like  a  throne, 
that  had  been  arranged  for  him,  and  he  had  come 
in  and  taken  a  common  seat.  She  was  to  have  a 
good  deal  of  hero-worship  later  on,  and  be  roused 
and  stirred  by  Carlyle,  but  there  was  never  any- 


THE  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  POLITICS         203 

thing  finer  than  the  admiration  kindled  in  her 
heart  just  then. 

After  Aunt  Nancy  went  away  she  crept  into 
her  father's  lap. 

"Aren't  you  glad  Mr.  Harper's  our  mayor?" 
she  asked.  "  Did  everybody  vote  for  him?  Do 
girls — big  girls — and  women  vote?" 

"  No,  dear.  Men  over  twenty-one  are  the  only 
persons  entitled  to  vote.  Steve  and  Joe  and  I 
voted.  And  it's  too  bad,  but  John  can't  put  in 
his  vote  for  President  this  fall." 

"  The  mayor  governs  the  city,  and  the  gov 
ernor,  the  State.  What  does  the  President 
do?" 

Her  father  explained  the  most  important  duties 
to  her,  and  that  a  President  was  elected  every 
four  years.  That  was  the  highest  office  in  the 
country. 

"  And  who  is  going  to  be  our  President?"  She 
was  getting  to  be  a  party  woman  already. 

"Well,  it  looks  as  if  Henry  Clay  would.  We 
shall  all  work  for  him. " 

If  it  only  wouldn't  come  bedtime  so  soon! 

The  little  girl  studied  and  played  with  a  will. 
She  could  skip  rope  like  a  little  fairy,  but  it  had 
been  quite  a  task  to  drive  her  hoop  straight.  She 
was  unconsciously  inclined  to  make  "  the  line  of 
beauty."  I  don't  know  that  it  was  always  grace 
ful,  either. 


204    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Some  new  people  moved  in  the  block.  Just 
opposite  there  was  a  tall  thin  woman  who  swept 
and  dusted  and  scrubbed  until  Steve  said  "  he  was 
afraid  there  wouldn't  be  enough  dirt  left  to  bury 
her  with. "  She  wore  faded  morning-gowns  and 
ragged  checked  aprons,  and  had  her  head  tied  up 
with  something  like  a  turban,  only  it  was  grayish 
and  not  pretty.  She  did  not  always  get  dressed 
up  by  afternoon.  Oh,  how  desperately  clean  she 
was !  Even  her  sidewalk  had  a  shiny  look,  and  as 
for  her  door  brasses,  they  outdid  the  sun. 

She  had  one  boy,  about  twelve  perhaps.  And 
his  name  was  John  Robert  Charles  Reed.  He 
was  fair,  well  dressed,  and  so  immaculately  clean 
that  Jim  said  he'd  give  a  dollar,  if  he  could  ever 
get  so  much  money  together,  just  to  roll  him  in 
the  dirt.  His  mother  always  gave  him  his  full 
name.  He  went  to  a  select  school,  but  when  he 
was  starting  away  in  the  morning  his  mother 
would  call  two  or  three  times  to  know  if  he  had 
all  of  his  books,  if  he  had  a  clean  handkerchief, 
and  if  he  was  sure  his  shoes  were  tied,  and  his 
clothes  brushed. 

And  one  day  a  curious  sort  of  carriage  went 
by,  a  chair  on  wheels,  and  a  man  was  pushing  it 
while  a  lady  walked  beside  it.  In  the  chair  was  a 
most  beautiful  girl  or  child,  fair  as  a  lily,  with 
long  light  curls  and  the  whitest  of  hands.  Hanny 
watched  in  amazement,  and  then  went  in  to  tell 


THE  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  POLITICS         205 

her  mother.  "  She  looks  awful  pale  and  sick, " 
said  Hanny. 

Josie  Dean  found  out  presently  who  she  was. 
She  had  come  to  one  of  the  houses  that  had  the 
pretty  gardens  in  front.  She  had  been  very  ill, 
and  she  couldn't  walk  a  step.  And  her  name  was 
Daisy  Jasper. 

Such  a  beautiful  name,  and  not  to  be  able  to 
run  and  play !  Oh,  how  pitiful  it  was ! 

The  little  girl  had  her  new  spring  and  summer 
clothes  made.  They  were  very  nice,  but  some 
how  she  did  not  feel  as  proud  of  them  as  she  had 
last  summer.  Her  father  took  her  to  Aunt 
Nancy's  church  one  Sunday.  It  was  very  large 
and  plain  and  full  of  people.  Aunt  Nancy  sat 
pretty  well  up,  but  they  found  her.  There 
seemed  a  good  many  old  men  and  women,  Hanny 
thought,  but  the  young  people  were  up  in  the 
galleries.  She  thought  the  singing  was  splendid, 
it  really  went  up  with  a  shout.  People  sang  in 
earnest  then. 

When  they  came  out  everybody  shook  hands  so 
cordially.  Aunt  Nancy  waited  a  little  while  and 
then  beckoned  a  tall,  kindly  looking  man,  who 
was  about  as  old  as  her  father,  though  there  was 
something  quite  different  about  him.  He  shook 
hands  with  Sister  Archer,  and  she  introduced 
him.  He  said  he  was  very  glad  to  see  Mr.  Un- 
derhill  among  them,  and  smiled  down  at  the  little 


206    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

girl  as  he  took  her  small  hand.  She  came  home 
quite  delighted  that  she  had  shaken  hands  with 
the  mayor.  Then  one  day  Steve  took  her  and 
Ben  down  to  Cliff  Street,  through  the  wonderful 
printing-house,  small  in  comparison  to  what  it  is 
to-day.  They  met  the  mayor  again  and  had  a 
nice  chat. 

The  next  great  thing  to  Hanny  was  Margaret's 
graduation.  She  had  been  studying  very  hard  to 
pass  this  year,  for  she  was  past  eighteen,  and  she 
was  very  successful.  Even  Joe  found  time  to  go 
down.  She  wore  her  pretty  white  dress,  but  she 
had  a  white  sash,  and  her  bodice  had  been  turned  in 
round  the  neck  to  make  it  low,  as  girls  wore  them 
then.  Hanny  thought  her  the  prettiest  girl  there. 
She  had  an  exquisite  basket  of  flowers  sent  her, 
beside  some  lovely  bouquets.  Annette  Beekman 
graduated  too,  and  all  the  Beekman  family  were 
out  in  force. 

There  were  some  very  pretty  closing  exercises 
in  the  little  girl's  school,  and  at  Houston  Street 
Jim  was  one  of  the  orators  of  the  day,  and  distin 
guished  himself  in  "  Marco  Bozzaris,"  one  of  the 
great  poems  of  that  period. 

After  that  people  went  hither  and  thither,  and 
when  schools  opened  and  business  started  up  the 
Presidential  campaign  was  in  full  blast.  There 
was  Clay  and  Frelinghuysen,  Polk  and  Dallas, 
and  at  the  last  moment  the  Nationals,  a  new 


THE  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  POLITICS         207 

party,  had  put  up  candidates,  which  was  consid 
ered  bad  for  the  Whigs.  Still  they  shouted  and 
sang  with  great  gusto : 

"Hurrah,  hurrah,  the  country's  risin' 
For  Harry  Clay  and  Frelinghuysen !" 

The  Democrats,  Loco-Focos,  as  they  were  often 
called  in  derision,  were  very  sure  of  their  victory. 
So  were  the  Whigs.  The  other  party  did  not 
really  expect  success.  There  were  parades  of 
some  kind  nearly  every  night.  Even  the  boys 
turned  out  and  marched  up  and  down  with  fife 
and  drum.  There  was  no  end  of  spirited  cam 
paign  songs,  and  rhymes  of  every  degree.  The 
Loco  Foco  Club  at  school  used  to  sing: 

"Oh.  poor  old  Harry  Clay! 
Oh,  poor  old  Harry  Clay ! 

You  never  can  be  President 
For  Polk  stands  in  the  way." 

Nora  Whitney  used  to  rock  in  the  big  chair 
with  kitty  in  her  arms,  and  this  was  her  version : 

"  Oh,  poor  old  pussy  gray ! 
Oh,  poor  old  pussy  gray ! 

You  never  can  be  President 
For  Polk  stands  in  the  way." 

This  didn't  tease  the  little  girl  nearly  so  much, 
for  she  knew  no  matter  how  sweet  and  lovely  and 
good  a  cat  might  be,  it  could  only  aspire  to  that 


208    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

honor  in  catland.  She  did  so  hate  to  hear  Mr. 
Clay  called  old  and  poor  when  he  was  neither. 
To  her  he  was  brave  Harry  of  the  West,  the  hero 
of  battle-fields. 

Jim  had  a  rather  hard  time  as  well.  He 
thought,  with  a  boy's  loyalty,  his  people  must  be 
right.  But  there  was  Lily,  who,  with  all  her  peo 
ple,  was  a  rabid  Democrat.  He  quite  made  up  his 
mind  he  wouldn't  keep  in  with  her,  but  the  two 
girls  he  liked  next  best  had  Democratic  affilia 
tions  also. 

Then  the  Whigs  had  a  grand  procession.  Per 
haps  it  would  have  been  the  part  of  wisdom  to 
wait  until  the  victory  was  assured,  but  the  leaders 
thought  it  best  to  arouse  enthusiasm  to  the  high 
est  pitch. 

Stephen  had  joined  with  some  friends  and  hired 
a  window  down  Broadway.  The  little  girl 
thought  it  a  very  magnificent  display.  Such 
bands  of  strikingly  dressed  men  marching  to  in 
spiriting  music,  their  torches  flaring  about  in 
vivid  rays,  such  carriage  loads,  such  wagons 
representing  different  industries,  and  there  was 
the  grand  Ship  of  State,  drawn  by  white  horses, 
four  abreast,  and  gayly  attired,  in  which  Henry 
Clay  was  to  sail  successfully  into  the  White 
House.  After  that  imposing  display  the  little 
girl  had  no  fear  at  all.  Jim  was  very  toploftical 
to  Miss  Lily  for  several  days. 


THE  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  POLITICS        209 

Then  came  the  fatal  day  There  were  no  tele 
graphs  to  flash  the  news  all  over  the  country  be 
fore  midnight.  A  small  one  connected  Baltimore 
and  Washington,  but  long  distance  was  considered 
chimerical. 

So  they  had  to  wait  and  wait.  Fortunes  varied. 
At  last  reliable  accounts  came,  and  Polk  had 
stood  in  the  way,  or  perhaps  Mr.  Binney,  the  third 
candidate,  had  taken  too  many  votes.  Anyhow, 
the  day  was  lost  to  brave  Harry  of  the  West. 

The  little  girl  was  bitterly  disappointed.  She 
would  have  liked  all  the  family  to  tie  a  black 
crape  around  their  arms,  as  Joe  had  once  when 
he  went  to  a  great  doctor's  funeral.  Dele  teased 
her  a  good  deal,  and  Nora  sang: 

**  Hurrah,  old  pussy  gray ! 
Hurrah,  old  pussy  gray! 

We've  got  the  President  and  all, 
And  Polk  has  won  the  day. " 

Then  the  Democrats  had  their  grand  proces 
sion.  The  houses  were  illuminated,  Jthe  streets 
were  full  of  shouting  children.  Even  the  boys 
had  a  small  brigade  that  marched  up  and  down  the 
street.  And  oh,  grief,  Jim  marched  with  them! 

"I  wouldn't  be  such  a  turn-coat!"  declared  the 
little  girl  angrily.     "I'm  ashamed  of  you,  James 
Underhill.     I  shall  always  feel  as  if  you  wasn't 
my  brother  any  more. " 
U 


210    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"  Sho !"  returned  Jim.  "  Half  the  boys  turning 
out  have  Whig  fathers!  There  wouldn't  have 
been  enough  for  any  sort  of  procession  without 
us.  And  they  promised  to  cry  quits  if  we  would 
turn  out.  It  don't  mean  anything  but  fun!" 

She  took  her  trouble  to  her  father.  "  You  are 
sorry  we  have  been  beaten?"  she  said  excitedly. 

"  Yes,  pussy,  very  sorry.  I  still  think  we  shall 
be  sorry  that  Clay  isn't  President." 

"  I'm  sorry  all  the  time.  And  when  he  was  so 
good  and  splendid,  why  didn't  they  put  him  in?" 

"  Well,  a  great  many  people  think  Mr.  Polk  just 
as  splendid." 

"Oh,  the  Democrats!"  she  commented  disdain 
fully. 

"  More  than  half  the  votes  of  the  country  went 
against  our  Harry  of  the  West.  One  side  always 
nas  to  be  beaten.  It's  hard  not  to  belong  to  the 
winning  side.  But  we  won  four  years  ago,  and 
we  did  a  big  lot  of  crowing,  I  remember.  We 
shouted  ourselves  hoarse  over  the  announcement 
that: 

'Tippecanoe  and  Tyler  too! 
Were  bound  to  rule  the  country  through. ' 

We  drove  our  enemies  out  of  sight  and  erected 
Log  Cabins  on  their  ruins.  We  had  a  grand,  good 
time.  And  then  our  brave  and  loyal  Tippecanoe 
died,  and  some  of  us  have  been  rather  disappointed 


THE  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  POLITICS         211 

in  Mr.  Tyler.  We  will  all  hope  for  the  best. 
There  are  a  good  many  excellent  men  on  both 
sides.  I  guess  the  country  will  come  out  all 
right." 

There  really  were  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"  You  see,  my  little  girl,  we  must  make  up  our 
minds  to  occasional  defeat,  especially  when  we 
go  into  politics,"  and  there  was  the  shrewd  laugh 
ing  twinkle  in  his  eye.  "  It  is  supposed  to  be 
better  for  the  country  to  have  the  parties  about 
evenly  divided.  They  stand  more  on  their  good 
behavior.  And  we  will  hope  for  better  luck  next 
time." 

"  But  you  couldn't  turn  round  and  be  a  Demo 
crat,  could  you?"  she  asked,  with  a  sad  entreaty. 

"No,  dear,"  he  replied  gravely. 

"I'm  glad  we  have  Mayor  Harper  left.  Can 
the  new  President  put  him  out?" 

"No,  my  dear." 

They  kissed  each  other  in  half -sorrowful  con 
solation.  But  alas !  next  year  even  Mayor  Har 
per  had  to  go  out. 


Cbapter  Uwelve. 

A   REAL   PARTY. 

THE  little  girl  would  have  felt  a  great  deal 
better  if  Lily  Ludlow  had  not  been  on  the  other 
side.  Lily  was  growing  into  a  very  pretty  girl. 
They  were  wearing  pantalets  shorter  now,  and 
she  noticed  that  Lily  wore  hers  very  short.  Then 
aprons  were  made  without  bibs  or  shoulder  bands, 
and  had  ruffles  on  the  bottom.  They  were  begin 
ning  to  go  farther  around,  almost  like  another 
skirt.  Lily  had  two  white  ones.  She  walked  up 
and  down  the  block  with  a  very  grand  air.  Then 
Miss  Chrissy  met  Margaret  at  the  house  of  a 
mutual  acquaintance,  and  invited  her  very  cor 
dially  to  call  on  her,  and  Margaret  did  the  same. 
Miss  Chrissy  lost  no  time,  but  came  card-case  in 
hand,  and  made  herself  very  agreeable. 

"Would  you  like  to  go  down  and  call  on  Jim's 
girl?"  Margaret  asked  smilingly.  Ben  always 
called  her  that. 

"No,"  replied  Hanny,  with  much  dignity.  "I 
don't  like  her.  She  called  me  'queer*  the  first 
time  she  saw  me,  and  I  shouldn't  think  of  calling 

213 


A  REAL  PARTY  213 

Nora  queer,  no  matter  how  she  looked.  If  Jim 
wants  her  he  may  have  her,  but  I  do  hope  they 
won't  live  in  New  York." 

The  temper  was  so  unusual  and  so  funny  that 
Margaret  let  it  go  without  a  word. 

Everything  came  back  to  its  normal  state.  Mr. 
Theodore  and  her  father  and  Steve  remained  the 
same  good  friends.  The  party  transparencies 
and  emblems  were  taken  down.  It  seemed  to 
her  that  people  had  not  been  as  deeply  disap 
pointed  as  they  ought  to  be.  She  was  very  loyal 
and  faithful  in  her  attachments,  and  no  doubt 
you  think  quite  obstinate  in  her  dislikes. 

But  something  else  happened  that  aroused  her 
interest.  Indeed,  there  were  things  happening 
all  the  time.  Miss  Jane  Underbill,  up  at  Harlem, 
was  dead  and  buried,  and  Margaret  had  taken  a 
great  interest  in  Miss  Lois.  Cousins  had  been 
going  and  coming.  Mrs.  Retty  Finch  had  a  little 
son,  and  Aunt  Crete  had  come  down  and  spent  a 
week  with  her  sister-in-law.  But  this  distanced 
them  all — Steve  and  Dolly  Beekman  were  going 
to  be  married!  The  Beekmans  had  been  staying 
up  in  the  country  house.  All  the  girls  had  been 
married  there. 

There  were  to  be  five  bridesmaids.  Annette 
and  Margaret  were  among  them.  Joe  was  to  be 
best  man  and  stand  with  Miss  Annette.  Doctor 
Hoffman  was  to  stand  with  Margaret.  There 


2i4    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

was  a  Gessner  cousin,  a  Vandam  -cousin,  and 
Dolly's  dear  friend,  Miss  Stuyvesant.  All  the 
bridesmaids  were  to  be  gowned  in  white  India 
mull,  and  Dolly  was  to  have  a  white  brocaded 
silk,  and  a  long  veil  that  her  grandmother  had 
worn.  Hosts  and  hosts  of  friends  were  invited. 
The  house  would  be  big  enough  to  take  them  all  in. 

Miss  Cynthia  made  the  little  girl  a  lovely  dress. 
First  she  took  her  pink  merino  for  a  slip.  Then 
there  were  lace  puffs  divided  by  insertion,  a  short 
baby  waist,  short  sleeves,  pink  satin  bows  on  her 
shoulders,  with  the  long  ends  floating  almost  like 
wings,  and  a  narrow  pink  ribbon  around  her  waist 
with  a  great  cluster  of  bows  and  ends.  She  was 
to  have  her  hair  curled  all  around,  and  to  stand 
and  hold  Dolly's  bouquet  while  she  was  being 
married.  I  suppose  now  we  would  call  her  a 
maid  of  honor. 

No  one  could  say  that  Mr.  Peter  Beekman  had 
ever  given  a  mean  wedding.  He  liked  Stephen 
very  much,  and  Dolly  could  almost  have  wheedled 
the  moon  out  of  him  if  she  had  tried.  He  teased 
Annetje  by  telling  her  she  would  have  to  be  an 
old  maid,  and  stay  home  to  take  care  of  her  father 
and  mother. 

Grandmother  Van  Kortlandt  came  down.  She 
laid  off  her  mourning  and  wore  her  black  velvet 
gown  with  its  English  crown  point  lace.  Grand 
mother  Underhill  came  too,  but  she  wore  black 


A  REAL  PARTY  315 

silk  with  her  pretty  fine  lace  fichu  that  she  l*ad 
been  married  in  herself.  Uncle  David,  and  Aunt 
Eunice,  who  wore  a  gray  satin  that  had  been 
made  for  her  eldest  son's  wedding.  There  were 
Underhill  cousins  by  the  score,  some  Bounetts 
from  New  Rochelle,  some  Vermilyeas,  for  no  one 
really  worth  while  was  to  be  slighted. 

The  day  had  been  very  fine  and  sunny.  That 
was  a  sign  the  bride  would  be  merry  and  happy 
and  pleasant  to  live  with.  And  when  the  even 
ing  fell  the  great  lawn  was  all  alight  with 
Chinese  lanterns  that  a  second  cousin  in  the  tea 
trade  had  sent  Dolly.  All  the  front  of  the  big 
old  house  was  illuminated.  It  was  square,  with  a 
great  cupola  on  top  of  the  second  story,  and  that 
was  in  a  blaze  of  light  as  well. 

The  Underbills  all  went  up  early.  Steve  was 
very  proud  of  his  mother,  who  had  a  pretty 
changeable  silk,  lilac  and  gray,  and  Joe  had  given 
her  a  collar  and  cuffs  of  Honiton  lace,  to  wear  at 
his  wedding,  he  said. 

They  went  in  to  see  the  bride  when  she  was 
dressed.  Of  course  she  was  beautiful,  a  pretty 
girl  couldn't  look  otherwise  in  her  wedding  gear. 
Her  veil  was  put  on  with  orange  blossoms  and 
buds,  and  delicately  scented.  There  was  a  wreath 
of  the  same  over  one  shoulder  and  across  her 
bosom.  Her  hair  was  done  in  a  marvellous 
fashion,  and  looked  like  a  golden  crown. 


216    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

How  the  carriages  rolled  around  and  the  silks 
rustled  up  and  down  the  stairs.  There  were  gay 
voices  and  soft  laughs,  and  presently  word  was 
sent  that  the  Reverend  Dr.  De  Witt  had  arrived. 
Then  the  immediate  family  went  down.  Dolly 
stooped  and  kissed  Hanny  and  told  her  she  must 
not  feel  a  mite  afraid.  The  young  men  filed  out. 
Stephen  took  Dolly,  just  putting  her  white-gloved 
hand  on  his  arm  as  if  it  was  the  most  precious 
thing  in  the  world.  Joe,  smiling  and  really  much 
handsomer  than  Stephen,  though  you  couldn't  per 
suade  Dolly  to  any  such  heresy;  then  Doctor 
Hoffman  and  the  others.  They  seemed  to  float 
down  the  broad  stairs.  The  rooms  were  very 
large,  but  oh,  how  full  they  were !  The  proces 
sion  walked  through  the  back  parlor;  Stephen 
and  Dolly  and  the  little  girl  went  straight  up  to 
Dr.  De  Witt,]  who  stood  there  in  his  gown  and 
bands,  a  sweet,  reverential  old  man.  The  brides 
maids  and  groomsmen  made  a  half-circle  around. 
There  was  some  soft  beautiful  music,  then  a 
silence.  Dr.  De  Witt  began.  Dorothea  Beek- 
man  and  Stephen  Decatur  Underbill  promised 
each  other  and  all  the  world,  to  love  and  cherish, 
and  live  together  according  to  God's  holy  ordi 
nance  all  their  lives. 

The  little  girl  held  the  flowers  and  listened  at 
tentively.  She  had  an  idea  there  must  be  a  great 
deal  more  to  it  and  was  almost  disappointed,  for 


A  REAL  PARTY  217 

she  could  not  understand  that  it  included  all  one's 
life.  Dr.  De  Witt  bent  over  and  kissed  the  bride 
with  solemn  reverence.  Then  Stephen  kissed  his 
wife.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  kissing  afterward, 
for  the  new  husband  kissed  the  bridesmaids,  and 
the  groomsmen  had  a  right  to  kiss  the  bride. 
The  mothers  had  their  turn  next,  and  afterward 
all  was  laughing  confusion. 

In  the  midst  of  this  Philip  Hoffman  leaned  over 
Margaret. 

"I  believe  you  kiss  the  bridesmaid,  too,"  he 
said,  in  a  serious  fashion,  and  touched  her  soft  red 
lips  with  his.  Margaret's  face  was  scarlet,  and 
her  breath  seemed  taken  away. 

They  made  a  pretty  semicircle  afterward,  and 
all  the  guests  came  up  with  good  wishes.  There 
were  so  many  elegantly  dressed  people  that  the 
little  girl  was  half  dazed.  I  forgot  to  tell  you 
that  she  wore  her  string  of  gold  beads,  and  they 
always  had  a  wedding  flavor  after  that. 

Presently  the  procession  re-formed  and  went 
out  to  the  dining-room,  where  the  table  ought  to 
have  groaned,  if  tables  ever  do.  There  were 
some  immaculate  black  waiters  who  handed  one 
thing  after  another.  The  bride  cut  the  cake  of 
both  kinds — pound  cake  like  gold,  and  fruit  cake 
rich  enough  to  give  you  indigestion.  And  this 
wasn't  the  regular  supper. 

The  bride  had  to  grace  the  head  of  every  table. 


2i8    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

What  merry  quips  and  jests  there  were !  People 
were  really  gay  and  happy  in  those  days.  No 
one  thought  of  being  bored,  they  had  better 
manners  and  kindlier  hearts,  and  enjoyment  was 
a  duty  as  well  as  pleasure.  The  musicians  were 
playing  softly  in  the  hall.  By  and  by  the  elder 
people,  who  had  a  long  drive  to  take  and  who  had 
passed  their  dancing  days  long  ago,  began  to  say 
good-by  to  the  bridal  couple.  In  the  upper  hall 
a  table  was  piled  with  white  boxes  tied  with  nar 
row  white  ribbon,  containing  a  bit  of  the  bride's 
cake,  and  a  maid  stood  there  handing  them  to  the 
guests.  You  put  some  under  your  pillow  and 
dreamed  on  it.  If  the  dream  was  delightful  you 
might  look  for  it  to  come  true.  If  it  was  dis 
agreeable  you  felt  sure  you  didn't  believe  in  such 
nonsense. 

Then  the  dancing  commenced.  There  were 
three  large  rooms  devoted  to  this.  Several  of 
the  old  men  went  up-stairs  to  Mr.  Beekman's 
special  room  to  have  a  smoke  and  a  good  game  of 
cards.  But  oh,  how  merry  they  were  down-stairs ! 
They  danced  with  the  utmost  zest  because  they 
really  liked  to. 

The  little  girl  danced,  too.  Steve  took  her  out 
first,  and  she  went  through  a  quadrille  very 
prettily.  Then  it  was  Joe,  and  after  that  Doctor 
Hoffman  begged  her  mother  to  let  her  dance  just 
once  with  him,  and  though  she  was  a  little  afraid, 


A  REAL  PARTY  219 

she  enjoyed  it  very  much.  Dolly  introduced  hel 
to  ever  so  many  people,  and  said  she  was  her 
little  sister. 

"  Am  I  really?"  said  Hanny,  a  little  confused. 

"Why,  yes,"  laughingly.  "And  one  reason 
why  I  wanted  to  marry  Stephen  was  because  he 
had  so  many  brothers.  Now  they  are  all  mine, 
five  of  them. " 

The  little  girl  studied  a  moment.  "  It's  queer," 
she  said  with  a  smile,  "  but  I  have  one  more  than 
you.  And  are  you  going  to  have  Margaret,  too?" 

"  Yes,  and  your  mother  and  father.  But  I  am 
going  to  be  very  good  and  not  take  them  away. 
Instead,  I  shall  come  to  see  you  and  have  my 
little  piece.  I'm  quite  in  love  with  Benny  Frank. 
And  Jim's  a  regular  mischief." 

Jim  did  wish,  when  he  saw  all  the  pretty  girls, 
that  he  was  a  grown  man  and  could  dance.  Ben 
found  some  men  to  talk  to,  and  Mr.  Bond,  who 
was  in  a  large  jewelry  establishment,  told  him 
about  some  rare  and  precious  stones.  Old  Mrs. 
Beekman  made  much  of  them  and  said  she  envied 
Mrs.  Underhill  her  fine  boys. 

There  was  supper  about  midnight.  Cold  meats 
of  all  kinds,  salads,  fruits,  and  ice  cream,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  wonderful  jellies.  Tea  and  coffee, 
and  in  an  anteroom  a  great  bowl  of  punch. 

After  that  Mrs.  Underhill  gathered  her  old 
people  and  her  young  people,  and  said  they  must 


220    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

go  home.  Joe  promised  lie  would  look  out  for 
George,  and  Margaret  was  to  stay  to  the  brides 
maid's  breakfast  the  next  morning. 

Dolly  slipped  a  ring  on  the  little  girl's  finger. 

"  That's  a  sign  you  are  my  little  sister  for  ever 
and  ever,"  she  said,  with  a  kiss. 

"Can't  I  ever  grow  big?"  asked  Hanny  seri 
ously. 

Mr.  Beekman  laughed  at  that. 

"You  must  come  down  and  see  me,"  he  ex 
claimed.  "We're  going  to  move  next  week, 
and  we  always  take  Katchina.  Come  and  have  a 
good  time  with  us. " 

The  little  girl  was  asleep  in  grandmother's  arms 
when  they  reached  home.  And  the  old  lady 
gently  took  off  her  pretty  clothes  and  laid  her 
in  the  bed. 

"  She's  by  far  the  sweetest  child  you've  got, 
Marg'ret,"  she  said  to  Mrs.  Underbill. 

That  was  not  the  end  of  the  gayeties.  Relatives 
kept  giving  parties,  and  the  bridesmaids  were 
asked.  Margaret  began  to  feel  as  if  she  knew 
Doctor  Hoffman  very  well.  He  liked  Annette, 
too.  Perhaps  he  would  marry  Annette.  They 
had  all  been  saying,  "  One  wedding  makes  many." 

It  seemed  so  queer  to  be  without  Stephen. 
The  little  girl  began  to  realize  that  they  had 
somehow  given  him  away,  and  she  did  not  quite 
enjoy  the  thought.  He  and  Dolly  came  down 


A  REAL  PARTY  221 

and  stayed  two  days,  and,  oh,  dear!  Dolly  was  the 
sweetest  and  merriest  and  funniest  being  alive. 
She  played  such  jolly  tunes,  she  sang  like  a  bird, 
and  whistled  like  a  bobolink,  could  play  checkers 
and  chess  and  fox  and  geese,  and  she  brought 
Jim  a  backgammon  board. 

They  talked  a  good  deal  about  building  a 
house  way  up-town.  Mr.  Beekman  had  offered 
Dolly  a  lot.  John  said  it  was  going  to  be  the 
finest  part  of  the  city.  Stephen  couldn't  really 
afford  to  build,  but  they  would  like  to  begin  in 
their  own  home.  Property  was  getting  so  high 
down-town  that  young  people  like  them,  just  be 
ginning  life,  must  look  around  and  consider. 

"You  just  g  up-town,  you  can't  miss  it.  And 
Mayor  Harper  is  going  to  make  a  beautiful  place 
of  Madison  Square.  The  firm  I  am  with  count 
on  that  being  the  fine  residential  part,"  declared 
John. 

"We  can't  afford  much  grandeur  on  the  start," 
says  Dolly,  with  charming  frankness.  "  When  we 
get  to  be  middle-aged  people,  perhaps " 

Mrs.  Underbill  is  very  glad  to  have  her  so  pru 
dent.  She  will  make  a  fine  wife  for  Stephen. 

Stephen  to'k  his  new  wife  up  to  Yonkers  to 
spend  a  Sunday,  so  tha^  Aunt  Crete  would  not 
feel  slighted.  She  seemed  quite  an  old  lady. 
And  though  it  was  cold  and  blustering  they 
walked  up  on  the  hill  where  father's  new  house 


222    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

was  to  be  built,  by  and  by,  a  lovely  place  for  the 
children  and  grandchildren  to  cluster  around  a 
hearthstone. 

Meanwhile  Margaret  was  learning  to  cook  and 
bake  and  keep  house.  She  practised  her  music 
diligently,  she  kept  on  with  her  French,  and  she 
began  to  read  some  books  Dr.  Hoffman  had  rec 
ommended.  There  were  calls  to  make  and  in 
vitations  to  tea,  and  a  Christmas  Eve  party  at  one 
of  her  schoolmate's.  Joe  said  she  must  let  him 
know  when  she  wanted  an  escort,  and  John  was 
ready  to  go  for  her  at  any  time. 

It  did  not  seem  possible  that  Christmas  could 
come  around  so  soon.  Santa  Claus  was  not  quite 
such  a  real  thing  this  year,  so  many  gifts  came  to 
the  little  girl  by  the  way  of  the  hall  door.  But 
she  hung  up  her  stocking  all  the  same,  and  had  it 
full  to  the  topmost  round.  There  was  a  beautiful 
set  of  dishes,  and  they  came  with  best  love  from 
"  Dolly  and  Stephen. "  There  was  cloth  for  a 
pretty  new  winter  coat,  blue-and-black  plaid, 
some  squirrel  fur  to  trim  it  with,  and  a  squirrel 
muff. 

Among  the  gifts  bestowed  "on  Margaret  was  a 
box  of  lovely  hothouse  flowers.  There  was  only 
"  Merry  Christmas"  on  the  card. 

Stephen  and  Dolly  came  to  the  Christmas 
dinner,  but  they  strenuously  denied  any  knowl 
edge  of  it.  Mrs.  Underhill  had  all  her  family  to- 


A  REAL  PARTY  223 

gether,  and  she  was  a  happy  woman.  In  truth 
she  was  very  proud  of  Stephen's  wife. 

Grandmother  Van  Kortlandt  had  come  to  make 
a  visit.  Aunt  Katrina  was  down  also  staying  with 
her  son,  as  the  two  old  ladies  found  it  rather  lone 
some  now  that  there  were  no  active  duties  de 
manding  their  attention.  And  Grandmother 
Underhill  had  sent  the  little  girl  her  Irish  chain 
bedquilt,  finished  and  quilted. 

The  Dean  children  came  in  during  the  after 
noon  to  exchange  notes  and  tell  a  grand  secret. 
Their  aunt  and  two  cousins  were  coming  from 
Baltimore.  Bessy  was  quite  a  big  girl,  fourteen, 
and  Ada  was  ten.  Their  mother  had  said  they 
might  have  a  real  party  of  boys  and  girls,  not  just 
a  little  tea  party  and  playing  with  dolls ;  but  real 
plays  with  forfeits. 

"  You  know  I've  just  studied  with  all  my  might 
and  main,  and  mother  said  if  I  had  all  my  lessons 
and  a  good  record  that  I  could  have  the  thing  I 
wanted  most,  if  it  didn't  cost  too  very  much. 
And  I  said  I  wanted  a  real  party." 

"  It  will  be  just  splendid!"  declared  Hanny. 

"  And  we've  been  counting  up.  We  have  seven 
cousins  to  ask.  And  the  girls  at  school — some  of 
them.  I  wish  we  knew  some  more  boys.  Oh, 
do  you  think  Jim  would  come?" 

"  I'll  ask  him  if  you  would  like." 

"  Oh,  just  coax  him.     I  suppose  Benny  Frank 


224    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

will  feel  that  he's  too  old.  But  he's  so  nice.  Oh, 
do  you  s'pose  John  Robert  Charles'  mother 
would  let  him  come?  Oh,  there!  I  promised  to 
call  him  Charles,  but  I  think  Robert's  prettier, 
don't  you?  And  mother  said  she'd  write  the  in 
vitations  on  note-paper.  And  she  has  some  lovely 
little  envelopes." 

That  did  look  like  a  party. 

"  I  think  John  Robert  Charles  is  real  nice,"  said 
Hanny  timidly.  "  But  I  am  afraid  of  his  mother. " 

"Oh,  so  is  he,  awful!  Yet  she  isn't  real  ugly 
to  him,  only  cross,  and  so  dreadful  particular. 
She  makes  him  go  out  and  wipe  his  feet  twice, 
and  wear  that  queer  long  cloak  when  it  rains,  and 
that  red  woollen  tippet.  She  bought  red  because 
it  was  healthy;  he  said  so.  He  wanted  blue-and- 
gray.  She  lets  him  come  over  to  our  house  some 
times,  and  he  can  sing  just  splendid.  But  the 
boys  do  make  fun  of  him." 

Poor  John  Robert  Charles  often  thought  his 
life  was  a  burden  on  account  of  his  name  and  his 
mother's  great  virtue  of  cleanliness.  He  was  not 
allowed  to  play  with  the  boys.  Ball  and  marbles 
and  hopscotch  were  tabooed.  He  could  walk  up 
and  down  and  do  errands,  and  that  with  going  to 
school  was  surely  enough.  Then  she  exaggerated 
him.  His  white  collars  were  always  broader ;  if 
trousers  were  a  little  wide,  his  were  regular 
sailor's.  She  bought  his  Sunday  suit  to  grow 


A  REAL  PARTY  225 

into,  so  by  the  second  winter  it  just  fitted  him. 
His  every-day  clothes  she  made.  And  oh,  she 
cut  his  hair ! 

It  is  very  hard  to  be  the  daughter  of  such  a 
mother,  a  rigid,  uncompromising  woman  with  no 
sense  of  the  fitness  of  things,  of  harmony  or 
beauty,  or.  indulgence  in  little  fancies  that  are  so 
much  to  a  child.  Quite  as  hard  to  be  the  son. 
Charles  had  everything  needful  to  keep  him 
warm,  in  good  health,  and  books  for  study.  When 
it  rained  hard  he  had  six  cents  to  ride  in  the  om 
nibus.  And  he  did  have  the  cleanest  house,  and 
the  cleanest  clothes,  and,  his  mother  thought,  a 
very  nice  time. 

Luckily  there  were  no  boys  this  end  of  the 
block.  They  were  quite  grown  up,  or  little  chil 
dren.  But  there  were  enough  below  to  torment 
the  poor  lad.  In  the  summer  when  the  charcoal 
man  went  by  they  would  sing  out : 

"John  Robert  Charles,  what  did  you  have  for 
breakfast?"  and  the  refrain  would  be,  "Charcoal." 

"  What  did  you  have  for  dinner?"     "  Charcoal." 

"  How  do  you  keep  so  clean?"     "  Charcoal." 

Early  this  autumn  the  boy  had  made  a  protest. 
Day  after  day  he  said  it  over  to  himself  until  he 
thought  he  had  sufficient  courage. 

"  Mother,  why  don't  you  call  me  just  Charles, 
as  my  father  does?" 

His  mother's   surprise   almost   withered  him. 


n6    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"Because,"  when  she  had  found  her  breath, 
"John  is  after  my  father,  who  was  an  excellent 
man,  and  Robert  was  for  the  only  brother  I  ever 
had,  and  Charles  for  your  grandfather  Reed.  If 
you  grow  up  as  good  as  any  of  them  you'll  have 
no  occasion  to  find  fault  with  your  name." 

Yet  boys  at  school  called  him  Bob,  and  he 
really  did  enjoy  it.  He  went  to  a  very  nice,  select 
school  where  there  were  only  twenty  boys. 

He  had  made  quite  an  acquaintance  with  the 
Dean  girls.  He  could  play  hoiise,  and  they  had 
such  delightful  books  to  read. 

"  And  the  party  must  be  some  time  next  week. 
Thursday,  mother  thought,  would  be  convenient. 
I  should  give  the  invitations  out  on  Monday," 
Josie  said.  "  And,  oh,  try  to  coax  Jim. " 

The  cousins  came.  Hanny  saw  them  on  Sun 
day,  and  on  Monday  two  little  girls  went  round 
with  a  pretty  basket  and  left  pale-green  missives  at 
the  houses  of  friends.  There  was  one  for  Ben  also. 

"H-m-m,"  ejaculated  Jim.  "A  baby  party. 
Will  they  play  with  dolls?" 

"Oh,  Jim!  it's  going  to  be  a  real  party  with 
refreshments.  Of  course  there  won't  be  dolls." 

"  Washington  pie  and  round  hearts. " 

The  tears  rushed  to  Hanny's  eyes. 

"Never  mind  about  him,"  said  Ben,  "I'll  go. 
I'll  be  your  beau.  And  see  here,  Hanny,  it's 
polite  to  answer  an  invitation.  Now  you  write 


A  REAL  PARTY  227 

yours  and  I'll  write  mine,  and  I'll  leave  them  at 
the  door." 

Hanny  smiled  and  went  up-stairs  for  her  box  of 
paper. 

Jim  gave  a  whistle  and  marched  off;  but  when 
he  saw  the  pretty  Baltimore  cousin,  he  reconsid 
ered,  though  he  was  afraid  Lily  Ludlow  would 
laugh  at  him  when  she  heard  of  it. 

Margaret  dressed  the  little  girl  in  her  pretty 
blue  cashmere,  and  she  felt  very  nice  with  her 
two  brothers.  Most  of  the  children  were  ten  and 
twelve,  but  the  two  cousins  were  older.  Bessie 
Ritter  was  quite  used  to  parties  and  took  the  lead, 
though  the  children  were  rather  shy  at  first. 

They  played  "Stage-coach,"  to  begin  with. 
When  the  driver,  who  stood  in  the  middle  of  the 
room,  said,  "Passengers  change  for  Boston," 
every  one  had  to  get  up  and  run  to  another  seat, 
and  of  course  there  was  one  who  could  not  find  a 
seat,  and  he  or  she  had  to  be  driver.  That  broke 
up  the  stiffness.  Then  they  had  "  Cross  Ques 
tions,"  where  you  answered  for  your  neighbor, 
and  he  answered  for  you,  and  you  were  always  for 
getting  and  had  to  pay  a  forfeit.  Of  course  they 
had  to  be  redeemed. 

Charles  Reed  came,  though  his  mother  couldn't 
decide  until  the  last  moment.  He  looked  very 
nice,  too.  He  had  to  sing  a  song,  and  really,  he 
did  it  in  a  manly  fashion. 


228    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

But  the  little  girl  thought  "Oats,  peas,  beans," 
the  prettiest  of  all.  It  nearly  foreshadowed  kin 
dergarten  songs.  The  children  stood  in  a  ring 
with  one  in  the  middle,  and  as  they  moved  slowly 
around,  sang: 

*  Oats,  peas,  beans,  and  barley  grows, 
'Tis  you  nor  I  nor  nobody  knows 
How  oats,  peas,  beans,  and  barley  grows. 
Thus  the  farmer  sows  his  seeds, 
Thus  he  stands  and  takes  his  ease, 
Stamps  his  foot  and  claps  his  hands 
And  turns  around  to  view  his  lands; 

A-waiting  for  a  partner, 

A-waiting  for  a  partner, 
So  open  the  ring  and  take  one  in, 
And  kiss  her  when  you  get  her  in." 

The  children  had  acted  it  all,  sowing  the  seed, 
taking  his  ease,  stamping,  clapping  hands,  and 
whirling  around.  They  looked  very  pretty  doing 
it.  Bessy  Ritter  had  asked  Ben  to  stand  in  first 
and  he  had  obligingly  consented.  Of  course  he 
chose  her.  Then  the  children  sang  again : 

"Now  you're  married  you  must  obey, 
You  must  be  true  to  all  you  say, 
You  must  be  kind ,  you  must  be  good, 
And  keep  your  wife  in  kindling-wood. 
The  oats  are  gathered  in  the  barn, 
The  best  produce  upon  the  farm, 
Gold  and  silver  must  be  paid, 
And  on  the  lips  a  kiss  is  laid." 


A  REAL  PARTY  229 

The  two  took  their  places  in  the  ring,  and  Jim 
next  sacrificed  himself  for  the  evening's  good  and 
chose  another  of  Josie's  cousins.  Then  John 
Robert  Charles  manfully  took  his  place  and  chose 
Josie  Dean.  So  they  went  on  until  nearly  all 
had  been  chosen.  Then  Mrs.  Dean  asked  them 
out  to  have  some  refreshments.  They  were  all 
very  merry  indeed.  Mr.  Dean  sang  some  amus 
ing  songs  afterward,  and  they  all  joined  in  sev 
eral  school  songs. 

"I've  just  been  happy  through  and  through," 
admitted  Charles.  "  I  wish  I  could  give  a  party. 
You  should  come  and  plan  everything,"  he  whis 
pered  to  Josie. 

It  was  time  to  go  home  then.  There  was  a 
Babel  of  talk  as  the  little  girls  were  finding  their 
wraps,  mingled  with  pleasant  outbursts  of  laugh 
ter.  Mr.  Dean  was  to  take  some  of  the  small 
people  home,  and  Jim  obligingly  offered  his  es 
cort.  It  had  not  been  so  very  babyish. 

Ben  wrapped  his  little  sister  up  "head  and 
ears,"  and  ran  home  with  her.  How  the  stars 
sparkled! 

"It's  been  just  splendid!"  she  said  to  her 
mother.  "  Don't  you  think  I  might  have  a  party 
some  time,  and  Ben  and  all  of  us?" 

"Next  winter,  may  be." 

Her  father  looked  up  from  his  paper  and 
smiled.  She  seemed  to  have  grown  taller. 


230    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

What  if,  some  day,  he    should    lose    his    little 
girl! 

The  very  next  day  Mr.  Whitney  announced 
that  he  was  going  to  take  the  Deans  and  their 
cousins  and  Nora  to  the  Museum.  He  wanted 
the  little  girl  to  go  with  them.  Delia  was  visit 
ing  in  Philadelphia.  He  promised,  laughingly, 
to  have  them  all  home  in  good  season. 


Cbapter  Ubtrteen, 

NEW    RELATIONS. 

NEW  YEAR'S  DAY  was  gayer  than  ever.  The 
streets  were  full  of  throngs  of  men  in  twos  tip  to 
any  number,  and  carriages  went  whirling  by. 
There  were  no  ladies  out,  of  course.  Margaret 
had  two  of  her  school  friends  receiving  with  her, 
one  a  beautiful  Southern  girl  whose  father  was  in 
Congress,  and  who  was  staying  on  in  New  York, 
taking  what  we  should  call  a  post-graduate  course 
now,  perfecting  herself  in  music  and  languages. 
Margaret  was  a  real  young  lady  now.  Joe  had 
taken  her  to  several  parties,  and  there  had  been 
quite  a  grand  reception  at  the  Beekmans'. 

The  little  girl  was  dressed  in  her  blue  cashmere 
and  a  dainty  white  Swiss  apron  ornamented  with 
little  bows  like  butterflies.  Miss  Butler  thought 
she  was  a  charming  child.  She  stood  by  the  win 
dow  a  good  deal,  delighted  with  the  stir  and  move 
ment  in  the  street,  and  she  looked  very  pictur 
esque.  Her  hair,  which  was  still  light,  had  been 
curled  all  round  and  tied  with  a  blue  ribbon  in 
stead  of  a  comb.  Her  mother  said  "  it  was  fool 
ishness,  and  they  would  make  the  child  as  vain  as 
231 


232    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

a  peacock."  But  I  think  she  was  rather  proud  of 
the  sweet,  pretty-mannered  little  girl. 

There  was  one  great  diversion  for  her.  About 
the  middle  of  the  afternoon  two  gentlemen  called 
for  her  father.  One  was  quite  as  old,  with  a 
handsome  white  beard  and  iron-gray  hair,  very 
stylishly  dressed.  He  wore  a  high-standing  collar 
with  points,  and  what  was  called  a  neckcloth  of 
black  silk  with  dark-blue  brocaded  figures  running 
over  it,  and  a  handsome  brocaded-velvet  vest, 
double-breasted,  the  fashion  of  the  times,  with 
gilt  buttons  that  looked  as  if  they  were  set  with 
diamonds,  they  sparkled  so.  Over  all  he  had 
worn  a  long  Spanish  circular  which  he  dropped  in 
the  hall.  The  younger  man  might  have  been 
eighteen  or  twenty. 

Ben  was  waiting  on  the  door.  He  announced 
"  Mr.  Bounett  and  Mr.  Eugene  Bounett. " 

"  We  hardly  expected  to  find  any  of  the  gentle 
men  at  home,"  began  the  elder  guest.  "We  are 
cousins,  in  a  fashion,  and  my  son  has  met  the 
doctor " 

"Father  is  at  home,"  said  Margaret  in  the 
pause.  "Hanny,  run  down-stairs  and  call  him." 

"Miss  Underbill,  I  presume,"  exclaimed  the 
young  man.  "  I  have  seen  your  brother  quite 
often  of  late.  And  do  you  know  his  chum,  Phil 
Hoffman?  Doctor,  I  ought  to  say,"  laughingly. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  and  Margaret  colored  a  little. 


NEW  RELATIONS  233 

Then  her  father  came  up.  These  were  some  of 
the  Bounetts  from  New  Rochelle,  originally 
farther  back  from  England  and  France  in  the  time 
of  the  Huguenot  persecution.  Mr.  Bounett's 
father  had  come  to  New  York  a  young  man 
seventy  odd  years  ago.  Mr.  Bounett  himself  had 
married  for  his  first  wife  a  Miss  Vermilye,  whose 
mother  had  been  an  Underhill  from  White  Plains. 
And  she  was  Father  Underhill' s  own  cousin.  She 
had  been  dead  more  than  twenty  years,  and  her 
children,  five  living  ones,  were  all  married  and 
settled  about,  and  he  had  five  by  his  second  mar 
riage.  This  was  the  eldest  son. 

They  talked  family  quite  a  while,  and  Mrs. 
Underhill  was  summoned.  The  young  man  went 
out  in  the  back  parlor  where  the  table  stood  in  its 
pretty  holiday  array,  and  was  introduced  to  Mar 
garet's  friends.  They  hunted  mottoes,  which  was 
often  quite  amusing,  ate  candies  and  almonds  and 
bits  of  cake  while  the  elder  people  were  talking 
themselves  into  relationship.  Eugene  explained 
that  his  next  younger  brother  was  Louis ;  then  a 
slip  of  a  girl  of  fifteen  and  two  young  cubs  com 
pleted  the  second  family.  But  the  older  brothers 
and  sisters  were  just  like  own  folks ;  indeed  he 
thought  one  sister,  Mrs.  French,  was  one  of  the 
most  charming  women  he  knew,  only  she  did 
live  in  the  wilds  of  Williamsburg.  Francesca 
was  married  in  the  Livingston  family  and  lived 


234    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

up  in  Manhattanville.  How  any  one  could  bear 
to  be  out  of  the  city — that  meant  below  Tenth 
Street — he  couldn't  see! 

"  Is  that  little  fairy  your  sister?"  he  asked. 
"Isn't  she  lovely!" 

Margaret  smiled.  She  thought  Mr.  Eugene 
very  flattering.  Then  the  others  came  out,  and 
Mr.  Bounett  took  a  cup  of  black  coffee  and  a  very 
dainty  sandwich.  He  left  sweets  to  the  young 
people.  And  now  that  they  had  broken  the  ice, 
he  hoped  the  Underbills  would  be  social.  They, 
the  Bounetts,  lived  over  in  Hammersley  Street, 
which  was  really  a  continuation  of  Houston.  And 
they  might  like  to  see  grandfather,  who  was  in  his 
ninetieth  year  and  still  kept  to  his  old  French 
ways  and  fashions. 

Miss  Butler  was  very  enthusiastic  about  the 
callers.  "Why,  you  are  quite  French,"  she  said, 
"only  they  show  it  in  their  looks." 

"We  have  had  so  much  English  admixture," 
and  Father  Underhill  laughed  with  a  mellow 
sound.  "But  I've  heard  that  my  great  grand 
mother  was  a  useless  fine  lady  when  they  came 
to  this  country,  and  had  never  dressed  herself  or 
brushed  her  hair,  and  had  to  have  a  lady's  maid 
until  she  died.  She  never  learned  to  speak  Eng 
lish,  or  only  a  few  words,  but  she  could  play 
beautifully  on  a  harp  and  recite  the  French  poets 
so  well  that  people  came  from  a  distance  to  see 


NEW  RELATIONS  235 

her.  But  her  daughters  had  a  great  many  other 
things  to  learn,  and  were  very  smart  women.  My 
own  grandmother  could  spin  on  the  big  wheel  and 
the  little  wheel  equal  to  any  girl  when  she  was 
seventy  years  old." 

"How  delightfully  romantic!"  cried  Miss 
Butler. 

"  There's  a  big  wheel  in  the  garret  at  Yonkers, 
and  a  little  wheel,  and  a  funny  reel,"  said  Hanny, 
who  was  sitting  on  Miss  Butler's  lap,  "  and  we 
used  to  play  the  reel  was  a  mill,  and  make  believe 
we  ground  corn." 

"I've  done  many  a  day's  spinning!"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Underbill.  "  The  Hunters  raised  no  end  of 
flax,  and  we  spun  the  thread  for  our  bed  and  table 
linen.  One  of  our  neighbors  had  a  loom  and  did 
weaving.  Cotton  goods  were  so  high  we  were 
glad  to  keep  to  linen.  Ah,  well,  the  world's 
changed  a  deal  since  my  young  days. " 

They  were  disturbed  by  an  influx  of  guests. 
The  fashionable  young  men  came  late  in  the 
afternoon  and  evening.  The  gilt  candelabrum  on 
the  mantel  was  lighted  up,  and  it  had  so  many 
branches  and  prisms  it  was  quite  brilliant.  Then 
there  were  sconces  at  the  side  of  the  wall  to  light 
up  corners,  and  these  have  come  around  again, 
since  people  realize  what  a  soft,  suggestive  light 
candles  give.  The  Underbills  had  no  gas  in  their 
house,  it  was  esteemed  one  of  the  luxuries.  Even 


236    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

the  outskirts  of  the  city  streets  were  still  lighted 
with  oil. 

Steve  came  in  and  teased  the  girls  and  begged 
them  to  eat  philopenas  with  him.  He  seemed 
to  find  so  many.  And  he  said  the  best  wish  he 
could  give  them  for  1845  was  that  they  might  all 
find  a  good  husband,  as  good  as  he  was  making, 
and  if  they  didn't  like  to  take  his  word  they  were 
at  liberty  to  go  and  ask  his  wife. 

Quite  in  the  evening  the  two  doctors  called,  and 
Joe  announced  that  he  was  going  to  have  a  Chris 
tian  supper  and  a  cup  of  tea,  so  that  he  would  be 
able  to  attend  to  business  to-morrow,  as  half  the 
city  would  be  ill  from  eating  all  manner  of  sweet 
stuff.  After  he  had  chaffed  the  girls  a  while  he 
took  Doctor  Hoffman  down-stairs,  "out  of  the 
crowd,"  he  said,  and  Mrs.  Underbill  gave  them  a 
cup  of  delicious  tea.  She  and  Martha  were  kept 
quite  busy  with  washing  dishes  and  making  tea 
and  coffee.  Joe  had  requested  last  year  that  they 
should  not  offer  wine  to  the  callers. 

He  went  out  in  the  kitchen  to  have  a  talk  with 
his  mother  about  the  Bounetts.  Dr.  Hoffman 
played  with  his  spoon  and  would  not  have  an 
other  cup  of  tea.  Mr.  Underbill  wondered  why 
he  did  not  go  up-stairs  and  have  a  good  time 
with  the  girls.  They  could  hear  the  merry 
laughter. 

"  Mr.  Underbill "  he  began  presently. 


NEW  RELATIONS  237 

"Eh — what?"  said  that  gentleman,  rather 
amazed  at  the  pause. 

Doctor  Hoffman  cleared  his  throat.  There  was 
nothing  at  all  in  it,  the  trouble  was  a  sort  of 
bounding  pulsation  that  interfered  with  his  breath, 
and  flushed  his  face. 

"Mr.  Underhill,  I  have  a  great  favor  to  ask." 
He  rose  and  came  near  so  that  he  could  lower  his 
voice.  "I — I  admire  your  daughter  extremely. 
I  should  choose  her  out  of  all  the  world  if  I 
could " 

Father  Underhill  glanced  up  in  consterna 
tion.  He  wanted  to  stop  the  young  man  from 
uttering  another  word,  but  before  he  could 
collect  his  scattered  wits,  the  young  man  had  said 
it  all. 

"  I  want  permission  to  visit  her,  to  see — if  she 
cannot  like  me  well  enough  to  some  day  take  me 
for  a  husband.  I  have  really  fallen  in  love  with 
her.  Joe  will  tell  you  all  you  want  to  know  about 
me.  I'm  steady,  thank  Heaven,  and  have  a  start 
in  the  world  beside  my  profession.  I  wanted  you 
to  know  what  my  intentions  were,  and  to  give  me 
the  opportunity  of  winning  her " 

"I  never  once  thought "  The  father  was 

confused,  and  the  lover  now  self-possessed. 

"No,  I  suppose  not.  Of  course,  we  are  both 
young  and  do  not  need  to  be  in  a  hurry.  I 
wanted  the  privilege  of  visiting  her." 


238    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"Yes,  yes,"  in  embarrassed  surprise.  "I 
mean " 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  lover,  grasping  his  hand. 
"  I  hope  to  win  your  respect  and  approval.  Joe 
and  I  are  like  brothers  already.  I  admire  you  all 
so  much." 

Hanny  came  flying  in  with  pink  cheeks  and 
eager  eyes. 

"Where  is  Joe?  Margaret  wants  him — she  said 
I  must  ask  them  if  they  wouldn't  please  to  like 
to  dance  a  quadrille,  and  come  up-stairs  when  they 
had  finished  their  tea." 

Joe  was  sitting  astride  a  chair,  tilting  it  up  and 
down  and  talking  to  his  mother. 

"Oh,  yes,  your  royal  highness.  Phil,  if  you 
have  finished  your  tea "  and  Joe  laughed,  in 
wardly  knowing  some  other  business  had  been 
concluded  as  well. 

They  had  a  delightful  quadrille.  Then  Miss 
Butler  sang  a  fascinating  song — "  The  Mocking- 
Bird."  Two  of  the  gentlemen  sang  several  of  the 
popular  airs  of  the  day,  and  the  party  broke  up. 
The  little  girl  had  gone  to  bed  some  time  before, 
though  she  declared  she  wasn't  a  bit  tired,  and 
her  eyes  shone  like  stars. 

The  very  next  day  it  snowed,  so  the  ladies 
could  have  no  day  at  all.  There  was  sleigh-riding 
and  merry-making  of  all  sorts  One  day  Dr. 
Hoffman  came  and  took  Margaret  and  her  little 


NEW  RELATIONS  239 

sister  out  in  a  dainty  cutter.  Then  he  used  to 
drop  in  St.  Thomas'  Church  and  walk  home  with 
her  evenings.  Father  Underhill  felt  quite  guilty 
in  not  forewarning  his  wife  of  the  conspiracy,  but 
one  evening  she  mistrusted. 

"  Margaret  is  altogether  too  young  to  keep  com 
pany,"  she  declared  in  an  authoritative  way. 

"  Margaret  is  nineteen, "  said  her  father.  "  And 
you  were  only  twenty  when  I  married  you. " 

"That's  too  young." 

"  Seems  to  me  we  were  far  from  miserable.  As 
I  remember  it  was  a  very  happy  year. " 

"Don't  be  silly,  'Milyer.  And  you're  so  soft 
about  the  children.  You  haven't  a  bit  of  sense 
about  them." 

In  her  heart  she  knew  she  would  not  give  up 
one  year  of  her  married  life  for  anything  the 
world  could  offer. 

"  Margaret  knows  no  more  about  housekeeping 
than  a  cat,"  she  continued. 

"Well,  there's  time  for  her  to  learn.  And  per 
haps  she  will  not  really  like  the  young  man." 

"  She  likes  him  already.  'Milyer,  you're  blind 
as  a  bat." 

"Well,  if  they  like  each  other — it's  the  way 
of  the  world.  It's  been  going  on  since  Adam." 

"It's  simply  ridiculous  to  have  Margaret  perk 
ing  herself  up  for  beaux. " 

"I    guess    you'll  have  to  let  the  matter  go. 


240    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Hoffman  is  well  connected  and  a  nice  young 
fellow." 

Yes,  she  had  to  let  the  matter  go  on.  She  was 
unnecessarily  sharp  with  Margaret  and  pretended 
not  to  see;  she  was  extremely  ceremonious  with 
the  young  man  at  first.  She  didn't  mean  to  have 
him  coming  to  tea  on  Sunday  evenings,  a  fashion 
that  still  lingered.  But  Dolly  was  very  good  to 
the  young  lovers,  and  they  had  so  many  mutual 
friends.  Then  Margaret  was  quite  shy,  she 
hardly  knew  what  to  make  of  the  attentions  that 
were  so  reverent  and  sweet.  She  couldn't  have 
discussed  them  with  a  single  human  being. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Underhill  had  called  on  their  new 
cousins  in  Hammersley  Street.  And  on  Wash 
ington's  Birthday  he  took  the  little  girl  and  Ben 
over. 

The  street  was  still  considered  in  the  quality 
part  of  the  town.  The  row  was  quite  imposing, 
the  stoops  being  high,  the  houses  three  stories 
and  a  half,  with  short  windows  just  below  the 
roof.  The  railing  of  the  stoop  was  very  ornate, 
the  work  around  the  front  door  and  the  fanlight 
at  the  top  being  of  the  old-fashioned  decorative 
sort.  They  were  ushered  into  the  parlor  by  a 
young  colored  lad. 

It  was  a  very  splendid  room,  the  little  girl 
thought,  with  a  high,  frescoed  ceiling  and  a  heavy 
cornice  of  flowers  and  leaves.  The  side  walls 


NEW  RELATIONS  241 

were  a  light  gray,  but  they  were  nearly  covered 
with  pictures.  The  curtains  were  a  dull  blue  and 
what  we  should  call  old  gold,  and  swept  the  floor. 
There  was  a  mirror  from  floor  to  ceiling  with  an 
extremely  ornamental  frame,  the  top  forming  a 
curtain  cornice  over  the  windows.  At  the  end  of 
the  room  was  the  same  kind  of  cornice  and  cur 
tains,  but  no  glass.  The  carpet  had  a  great  me 
dallion  in  the  center  and  all  kinds  of  arabesques 
and  scrolls  and  flowers  about  it.  The  furniture 
was  rather  odd,  divans,  chairs,  ottomans  and  queer- 
looking  tables,  and  the  little  girl  came  to  know 
afterward  that  two  or  three  pieces  had  been  in  the 
royal  palace  of  Versailles. 

A  very  sweet,  dark-eyed,  dark-haired  woman 
came  through  the  curtain. 

"I  am  Mrs.  French,"  she  said,  in  a  soft  tone, 
"  and  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you.  Is  this  the  little 
girl  of  whom  I  have  heard  so  much?  Be  seated, 
please.  Father  is  out,  and  he  will  be  very  sorry 
to  miss  you." 

She  dropped  on  an  ottoman  and  drew  the  little 
girl  toward  her. 

"  Let  me  take  off  your  hat  and  coat.  There  are 
some  children  who  will  be  glad  to  see  you. 
Mother  will  be  up  in  a  few  moments.  Do  you 
know  that  I  have  been  seriously  considering  a 
visit  to  you?  Father  and  Eugene  have  talked  so 
much  about  you." 


242    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"  And  your  grandfather " 

"  He  is  very  well  to-day.  I  was  in  his  room  read 
ing  to  him.  He  will  be  pleased  you  have  come." 

Mrs.  Bounett  came  in  with  her  daughter,  a 
rather  tall,  lanky  girl  of  fifteen,  very  dark,  and 
with  a  great  mop  of  black  hair  that  was  tied  at 
the  back  without  being  braided.  She  looked  as 
if  she  had  outgrown  her  dress. 

This  was  Miss  Luella.  After  a  moment  she 
came  over  to  Ben,  and  asked  him  where  he  went 
to  school,  and  if  he  had  any  pets.  They  had  a 
squirrel  and  some  guinea-pigs  and  a  parrot  that 
could  talk  everything.  Didn't  he  want  to  see 
them? 

Hanny  looked  eager  as  well. 

"  Can  I  take  her?"  asked  Lu. 

"The  boys  are  down-stairs.     Don't  be  rough." 

It  was  rather  dark.  Lu  caught  Hanny  in  her 
arms  and  whisked  her  down  to  the  dining-room. 
The  boys  were  thirteen  and  eleven,  and  were 
playing  checkers  on  the  large  dining-table.  Every 
thing  looked  so  immensely  big  to  Hanny.  The 
shelves  of  the  sideboard  were  full  of  glass  and 
silver  and  queer  old  blue  china;  the  chairs  had 
great  high  backs  and  were  leather-covered. 

"We  want  to  see  the  guinea-pigs,"  said  Lu. 
" But  I'll  take  her  out  to  see  the  parrots  first." 

There  was  a  fat  colored  woman  in  the  kitchen 
who  suggested  Aunt  Mary.  They  went  through 


NEW  RELATIONS  243 

to  a  little  room  under  the  great  back  porch,  made 
in  the  end  of  the  area. 

There  were  two  parrots  and  a  beautiful  white 
paroquet.  Polly  was  sulky.  "  Mind  your  busi 
ness!"  was  all  she  would  say.  Dan  soon  began  to 
be  quite  sociable,  declaring  "  He  was  glad  to  see 
them,  and  would  like  to  have  some  grapes. " 

"You  shut  up!"  screamed  Polly. 

"I'll  talk  as  much  as  I  like." 

"  No,  you  won't.  I'll  come  and  choke  you." 

"Do  if  you  dare!" 

Then  they  shrieked  at  each  other  with  the  vigor 
of  fighting  cats.  Polly  rustled  around  her  cage 
as  if  she  would  be  out  the  next  moment.  Hanny 
clung  to  Lu  and  was  pale  with  fright. 

"They  can't  get  out.  They'd  tear  each  other 
to  pieces  when  they're  mad,  and  sometimes 
they're  sweet  as  honey.  Pa's  going  to  sell  one  of 
them,  but  we  can't  decide  which  must  go.  Polly 
talks  a  lot  when  she's  in  the  mood.  I  don't  know 
what's  ruffled  her  so.  Polly,  my  pretty  Polly, 
sing  for  me,  and  the  first  time  I  go  out  I'll  buy 
you  some  candy  with  lots  of  peanuts  in  it — lots 
— of — peanuts,"  lingeringly. 

"  Polly  sing!  Oh,  ho!  ho!  Polly  can't  sing  no 
more'n  a  crow,"  squeaked  out  Dan. 

"  Can  too,  can  too !" 

"Pretty  Polly!  Polly  want  a  cracker.  Polly 
sing  for  her  dear  Dan.  Oh,  boo  hoo!" 


244    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Polly  screamed  in  a  tearing  rage. 

The  young  colored  lad  entered.  "  Miss  Lu,  de 
birds  disturb  yer  gramper.  Lemme  take  Polly. 
You  bad  bird,  you're  goin'  in  a  dungeon." 

With  that  he  whisked  Polly  off.  Dan  laughed 
gleefully.  The  boys  came,  and  Dan  went 
through  his  stock  accomplishments,  much  to 
their  delight. 

"  But  Polly's  a  sight  the  funniest,"  declared  Lu. 
"  Only  she  has  such  a  horrid  temper  and  it  just 
grows  worse.  We  had  a  monkey  and  that  got  to 
be  so  awful  bad.  Now  let's  go  and  see  the  guinea- 
pigs." 

They  were  up  on  the  top  floor.  "  We  had  them 
down  cellar,"  explained  one  of  the  boys,  "but 
some  of  them  died.  'Gene  said  'twas  too  dark 
and  damp." 

The  children  trudged  up-stairs.  There  was  a 
pen  in  a  small  room  which  seemed  a  receptacle 
for  all  sorts  of  broken  toys.  Ah,  how  pretty  the 
little  things  were;  black-and-yellow-spotted, 
bright-eyed,  and  soft-coated,  with  a  tiny  sort  of 
squeak,  and  tame  enough  to  be  caught.  Lu  of 
fered  one  to  Hanny,  but  she  drew  back  in  half 
fear.  Then  they  brought  in  the  squirrel,  and  he 
was  a  handsome  fellow  with  beady  eyes  and  a 
bushy  tail,  and  when  they  let  him  out  he  ran  up  on 
any  one's  shoulder. 

"  If  it  was  only  warm,  we'd  go  out  and  have  a 


NEW  RELATIONS  245 

swing.  Oh,  don't  you  want  a  ride?  Here's  our 
horse.  We  don't  care  much  for  it  now,  though  in 
summer  we  have  it  out-of-doors. " 

Hanny  was  speechless  with  amaze.  She  had 
never  seen  so  large  a  one  in  the  stores.  He  was 
covered  with  real  hair,  had  a  splendid  mane  and 
tail  and  beautiful  eyes.  His  silver-mounted  red 
trappings  were  extremely  gorgeous. 

"He's  magnificent!"  declared  Ben.  "Hanny, 
just  try  him.  Don't  be  a  little  'fraid-cat!"  as  she 
hung  back. 

"  See  here!"  Lu  sprang  on  and  took  an  inspirit 
ing  gallop.  The  horse  worked  with  springs  and 
seemed  fairly  alive.  Afterward  Hanny  ventured 
and  found  it  exhilarating.  Oh,  if  she  could  only 
have  one! 

"  I  suppose  it  cost  a  good  deal,"  she  questioned 
timidly. 

Jeffrey  laughed.  "  'Gene  picked  it  up  at  an  auc 
tion  where  people  were  being  sold  out,  and  he  got 
it  for  a  song,"  he  said.  "  But  we've  outgrown  it. 
I'd  like  a  real  pony.  I  wish  pa'd  keep  a  horse." 

"  We  have  two,"  said  the  little  girl. 

"Pshaw  now!  you're  joking." 

"No,"  rejoined  Ben  quietly.  "We  brought 
them  down  from  the  farm.  Father  and  Steve 
needed  them." 

"  Do  you  own  a  farm,  too?"  Jeffrey  asked  in 
amaze.  "  Why,  you  must  be  all-fired  rich !" 


246    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"  No,  we're  not  so  very  rich,"  said  Ben  soberly. 
"  Our  house  in  First  Street  isn't  nearly  as  big  and 
as  handsome  as  this.  But  we  did  have  a  big  one 
in  the  country.  Uncle  lives  there  now,  and  we 
have  a  hundred  acres  of  land." 

"  Jiminy!"  ejaciilated  the  young  boy. 

"Chillen!  Chillen,  please  bring  de  company 
down  to  your  gramper. " 

"Oh,  I'm  'fraid  you're  going  away,"  said  Lu. 
"You're  awful  sweet!  I  just  wish  I  had  a  little 
sister.  I  wish  you'd  come  and  stay  a  week.  But 
I  s'pose  you'd  feel  like  a  cat  in  a  strange  garret. 
I'd  be  real  good  to  you,  though." 

She  caught  Hanny  in  her  arms  and  fairly  ran 
down-stairs  with  her. 

"You're  the  littlest  mite  of  a  thing!  Why, 
you're  never  nine  years  old!  You're  just  like  a 
doll!" 

"Oh,  please  let  me  walk,"  entreated  Hanny. 

Their  mother  stood  in  the  lower  hall. 

"  You  boys  go  down-stairs  or  in  the  parlor.  So 
many  children  confuse  grandpa.  Lu,  you  look 
too  utterly  harum-scarum.  Do  go  and  brush 
your  hair." 

Between  the  parlor  and  the  back  room  was  a 
space  made  into  a  library  on  one  side  and  some 
closets  on  the  other.  Sliding  doors  shut  this  from 
the  back  room.  This  was  large,  with  a  splendid, 
high-post  bedstead  that  had  yellow  silk  curtains 


NEW  RELATIONS  247 

around  it,  a  velvet  sofa,  and  over  by  the  win 
dow  some  arm-chairs  and  a  table.  And  out  of  one 
chair  rose  a  curious  little  old  man,  who  seemed 
somehow  to  have  shrunken  up,  and  yet  he  was  a 
gentleman  from  head  to  foot.  His  hair  was  long 
and  curled  at  the  ends,  but  it  looked  like  floss 
silk.  His  eyes  were  dark  and  bright,  his  face 
was  wrinkled,  and  his  beard  thin.  Hanny  thought 
of  the  old  man  at  the  Bowling  Green  who  had 
been  in  the  Bastile.  His  velvet  coat,  very  much 
cut  away,  was  faced  with  plum-colored  satin,  his 
long  waistcoat  was  of  flowered  damask,  his  knee- 
breeches  were  fasened  with  silver  buckles,  and 
his  slippers  had  much  larger  ones.  There  really 
were  some  diamonds  in  them.  His  shirt  frill  was 
crimped  in  the  most  beautiful  manner,  and  the 
diamond  pin  sparkled  with  every  turn. 

"This  is  grandpa,"  said  Mrs.  French.  "We 
are  all  very  proud  of  him  that  he  has  kept  his 
faculties,  and  we  want  him  to  live  an  even  hun 
dred  years. " 

The  old  man  smiled  and  shook  his  head  slowly. 
He  took  Hanny 's  hand,  and  his  was  as  soft  as  a 
baby's.  He  said  he  was  very  glad  to  see  them 
both ;  he  and  their  father  had  been  talking  over 
old  times  and  relationships. 

His  voice  had  a  pretty  foreign  sound.  It  was  a 
soft,  trained  voice,  but  the  accent  was  discernible. 

"  And  you  were  here  through  the  War  of  the 


248    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Revolution,"  said  Ben,  who  had  been  counting 
back. 

"Yes.  My  father  had  just  died  and  left 
nine  children.  I  was  the  oldest,  and  there  were 
two  girls.  So  I  couldn't  be  spared  to  go.  The 
British  so  soon  took  possession  of  New  York. 
But  in  1812  I  was  free  to  fight  for  liberty  and  the 
country  of  my  adoption.  We  were  never  mo 
lested  nor  badly  treated,  but  of  course  we  could 
give  no  aid  to  our  countrymen.  It  was  a  long, 
weary  struggle.  No  one  supposed  at  first  the 
rebels  could  conquer.  And  all  that  is  seventy 
years  ago,  seventy  years. " 

He  leaned  back  and  looked  weary. 

"  You  must  come  down  some  Saturday  morning 
when  he  feels  fresh  and  he  will  tell  you  all  about 
it,"  said  Mrs.  French.  "  His  memory  is  excellent, 
but  he  does  get  fatigued. " 

"  I  wonder  if  you  ever  saw  the  statue  of  King 
George  that  was  in  Bowling  Green,"  Hanny  asked, 
with  a  little  hesitation.  "  They  made  bullets  of 
it." 

"Ah,  you  know  that  much?"  He  smiled  and 
leaned  over  on  the  arm  of  the  chair.  "  Yes,  my 
child.  The  soldiers  met  to  hear  the  Declaration 
of  Independence  read  for  the  first  time.  Wash 
ington  was  on  horseback  with  his  aides  around 
him.  The  applause  was  like  a  mighty  shout  from 
one  throat.  Then  they  rushed  to  the  City  Hall 


NEW  RELATIONS  249 

and  tore  the  picture  of  the  king  from  its  frame, 
and  then  they  dragged  the  statue  through  the 
streets.  Yes,  its  final  end  was  bullets  for  the 
rebels,  as  they  were  called.  As  my  daughter  says, 
come  and  see  me  again,  and  I  will  tell  you  all  you 
want  to  hear.  You  are  a  pretty  little  girl,"  and 
he  pressed  Hanny's  hand  caressingly. 

Then  they  said  good-by  to  him  and  went  back 
to  the  parlor. 

"  He  always  dresses  up  on  holidays,"  said  Mrs. 
French  smilingly,  "  though  he  continues  to  wear 
the  old-fashioned  costume.  He  has  had  a  number 
of  calls  to-day.  People  are  still  interested  in  the 
old  times.  And  believe  me,  I  shall  take  a  great 
deal  of  pleasure  in  continuing  the  acquaintance. 
You  may  expect  me  very  soon. " 

Luella  kissed  Hanny  with  frantic  fervor  and 
begged  her  to  come  again.  She  was  so  used  to 
boys,  she  cared  nothing  about  Ben. 

The  little  girl  had  so  much  to  tell  Jim,  who  had 
been  skating.  The  quarrelling  parrots,  the  beau 
tiful  house,  the  queer  little  guinea-pigs,  and  the 
splendid  hobby-horse  that  they  didn't  seem  to  care 
a  bit  about.  "  And  Lu  is  a  good  deal  like  Dele, 
only  not  so  nice  or  so  funny,  and  her  hair  is  awful 
black.  She  ran  down-stairs  with  me  in  her  arms 
and  I  was  'most  frightened  to  death.  I  don't  be 
lieve  I  would  want  to  be  her  little  sister.  And 
the  grandpa  is  like  a  picture  of  the  old  French 


2$o    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

people.  And  to  think  that  he  doesn't  read  Eng> 
lish  very  well  and  always  uses  his  French  Bible. 
There  were  so  many  foreign  people  in  New  York 
at  that  time,  I  s'pose  they  couldn't  all  talk  Eng 
lish." 

"And  they  had  preaching  in  Dutch  after  1800 
in  the  Middle  Dutch  Church,"  said  Jim.  "And 
even  after  the  sermons  were  in  English  the  sing 
ing  had  to  be  in  Dutch.  Aunt  Nancy  said  the 
place  used  to  be  crowded  just  to  hear  the  people 
sing. " 

"  It's  queer  how  they  could  understand  each 
other.  Do  you  suppose  the  children  had  to  learn 
every  language?" 

Jim  gave  a  great  laugh  at  that. 


Cbapter  fourteen. 

JOHN    ROBERT    CHARLES. 

THE  new  President  was  inaugurated  on  the 
fourth  of  March.  The  little  girl  sighed  to  think 
how  many  Democratic  people  there  were  on  her 
block.  They  put  out  flags  and  bunting,  and  il 
luminated  in  the  evening1.  They  had  tremendous 
bonfires,  and  all  the  boys  waived  personal  feeling 
and  danced  and  whooped  like  wild  Indians.  No 
healthy,  well-conditioned  boy  could  resist  the  fra 
grance  of  a  tar  barrel. 

Miss  Lily  Ludlow  wore  a  red,  white,  and  blue 
rosette  with  a  tiny  portrait  of  Mr.  Polk  in  the 
centre.  The  public-school  girls  often  walked  up 
First  Avenue  and  met  Mrs.  Craven's  little  girls 
going  home.  Lily  used  to  stare  at  Hanny  in  an 
insolent  manner.  She  and  her  sister  could  not 
forgive  the  fact  that  Miss  Margaret  had  not 
called. 

And  now  the  talk  was  that  Miss  Margaret  Un 
derbill  had  a  beau,  a  handsome  young  doctor. 

"They  do  think  they're  awful  grand,"  said 
Lily  to  some  of  her  mates.  "  But  they  take  up 
with  that  Dele  Whitney,  who  sometimes  does  the 
251 


252    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

washing  on  Saturdays.  It's  a  fact,  girls ;  and  the 
sister  works  in  an  artificial-flower  place  down  in 
Division  Street.  And  the  Underbills  think 
they're  good  enough  to  company  with." 

But  the  fact  remained  that  the  Underbills  kept 
a  carriage,  and  that  Mr.  Stephen  had  married  in 
the  Beekman  family,  and  Chris  had  heard  that 
Dr.  Hoffman  was  considered  a  great  catch.  She 
was  almost  twenty  and  had  never  kept  company 
yet.  Young  men  called  at  the  house,  to  be  sure, 
and  attended  her  home  from  parties,  but  the  most 
desirable  ones  seemed  unattainable. 

Her  mother  fretted  a  little  that  she  didn't  get 
to  doing  something.  Here  were  girls  earning 
five  or  six  dollars  a  week,  and  her  father's  wages 
were  so  small  it  was  a  pinch  all  the  time. 

"  I'm  sure  I  make  all  our  dresses  and  sew  for 
father,  and  do  lots  of  housework,"  replied  Chris, 
half-crying. 

There  were  people  even  then  who  considered  it 
more  genteel  not  to  work  out  of  the  house.  And 
since  servants  were  not  generally  kept,  a 
daughter's  assistance  was  needed  in  the  house 
hold. 

And  to  crown  the  little  girl's  troubles  her  dear 
mayor  was  retired  to  private  life  and  a  Democrat 
ruled  in  his  stead. 

But  there  were  the  new  discoveries  to  talk 
about,  and  the  reduction  of  postage  due  to  the  old 


JOHN  ROBERT  CHARLES       253 

administration.  Now  you  could  send  a  letter 
three  hundred  miles  for  five  cents.  Hanny  wrote 
several  times  a  year  to  her  grandmother  Under 
bill,  so  this  interested  her.  At  the  end  of  the 
century  we  are  clamoring  for  penny  postage,  and 
our  delivery  is  free.  Then  they  had  to  pay  the 
carrier. 

The  electro-magnetic  telegraph  was  coming  in 
for  its  share  of  attention.  Scientific  people  were 
dropping  into  the  old  University  of  New  York, 
where  Mr.  Morse  was  working  it.  The  city  had 
been  connected  with  Washington.  There  were 
people  who  believed  "there  was  a  humbugging 
fellow  at  both  ends,"  and  that  the  scheme  couldn't 
be  made  to  work.  It  was  cumbersome  compared 
to  modern  methods.  And  Professor  John  W. 
Draper  took  the  first  daguerreotype  from  the  roof 
of  that  famous  building.  That  was  the  greatest 
wonder  of  the  day.  What  was  more  remarkable, 
a  picture  or  portrait  could  be  copied  in  a  few 
moments.  Then  there  was  a  hint  of  war  with 
Mexico,  and  the  Oregon  question  was  looming  up 
with  its  cabalistic  figures  of  "54,  40,  or  fight." 
Indeed,  it  seemed  as  if  war  was  in  the  air. 

Children  too  had  trials,  especially  John  Robert 
Charles.  He  had  been  allowed  to  go  to  Allen 
Street  Sunday-school  with  the  Dean  children,  and 
he  went  over  on  Saturday  afternoon  to  study  the 
lesson.  Hanny  used  to  come  in,  and  occasionally 


254    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

they  had  a  little  tea.  They  played  in  the  yard 
and  the  wide  back  area.  The  boys  did  tease  him ; 
the  target  was  too  good  to  miss.  Hanny  sympa 
thized  with  him,  for  he  was  so  nice  and  pleasant. 
They  couldn't  decide  just  what  name  to  call  him. 
Bob  did  well  enough  for  the  boys,  but  it  was  a 
little  too  rough  for  girls. 

His  mother  still  made  him  put  on  a  long,  checked 
pinafore  to  come  to  meals.  His  father  used  a 
white  napkin.  And  he  did  wipe  dishes  for  her, 
and  help  with  the  vegetables  on  Saturday.  He 
could  spread  up  a  bed  as  neatly  as  a  girl,  but  he 
kept  these  accomplishments  to  himself. 

There  was  another  excitement  among  the  small 
people.  Mr.  Bradbury,  who  for  years  was  des 
tined  to  be  the  children's  delight,  was  teaching 
singing  classes  and  giving  concerts  with  his  best 
pupils.  Mrs.  Dean  decided  to  let  the  girls  go  to 
the  four  o'clock  class.  Hanny  would  join  them. 
They  could  study  the  Sunday  lesson  before  or 
afterward. 

"If  I  only  could  go,"  sighed  the  boy.  The 
tears  came  into  his  eyes. 

"  And  you  can  sing  just  lovely !"  declared  Tudie. 

Josie  stood  up  with  a  warmly  flushing  face. 

"  I  do  believe  I'd  raise  an  insurrection.  It  isn't 
as  if  you  wanted  to  do  anything  wicked,  like 
swearing  or  stealing.  And  my  father  said  God 
gave  beautiful  voices  to  people  to  sing  with. " 


JOHN  ROBERT  CHARLES       255 

"  But  if  I  asked  mother  she  wouldn't  let  me 
go.  And — I  couldn't  run  away.  You  see  that 
would  be  just  for  once.  Perhaps  then  I  wouldn't 
be  let  to  come  over  here,  afterward,"  the  boy 
replied  sadly. 

"Couldn't  you  coax?"  asked  Hanny. 

"I  could  just  ask,  and  she'd  say  no." 

Hanny  felt  so  sorry  for  him.  He  was  very  fair 
and  had  pretty,  but  rather  timid  eyes. 

"You  can't  raise  an  insurrection  when  you 
know  for  certain  it'll  be  put  down  the  next  mo 
ment,"  the  boy  added. 

"Well,"  Josie  drew  a  long  breath  and  studied. 

"  I'd  ask  my  father,"  said  Hanny. 

"And  he'd  say,  'Ask  your  mother;  it's  as  she 
says. '  Most  everything  is  as  mother  says." 

"Then  I'd  put  my  arms  around  his  neck  and 
coax.  I'd  tell  him  I  wanted  to  be  like  other  boys. 
They  think  it's  queer " 

Hanny  stopped,  very  red  in  the  face. 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  mind.  I  know  they  laugh  at 
me  and  make  fun  of  me.  But  mother's  so  nice 
and  clean,  only  I  wish  she'd  dress  up  as  your 
mothers  do,  and  take  a  walk  sometimes  and  go  to 
church.  And  she  cooks  such  splendid  things  and 
makes  puddings  and  pies,  and  she  lets  me  sit  and 
read  when  I'm  done  my  lessons.  I  have  all  the 
Rollo  books,  and  father  has  Sir  Walter  Scott, 
that  he's  letting  me  read  now.  It's  only  that 


256    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

mother  thinks  I'll  get  into  bad  things  and  meet 
bad  boys  and  get  my  clothes  soiled.  Oh,  some 
times  I'm  so  tired  of  being  nice!  Only  you 
wouldn't  want  me  to  come  over  here  if  I  wasn't." 

That  was  very  true. 

"  But  there  are  a  great  many  nice  boys.  Ben's 
just  lovely,  only  he  is  growing  up  so  fast,"  said 
the  little  girl,  with  a  sigh.  "And  though  Jim 
teases,  he  is  real  good  and  jolly.  He  doesn't 
keep  his  hands  clean,  and  mother  scolds  him  a 
little  for  that." 

They  could  not  decide  about  the  insurrection. 
Presently  it  was  time  for  Charles  to  go  home. 
He  was  always  on  the  mark  lest  he  should  not 
be  allowed  the  indulgence  next  time.  The  poor 
boy  had  been  moulded  into  the  straight  line  of 
duty. 

The  girls  went  out  to  swing.  They  could  all 
three  sit  in  at  once.  And  they  often  talked  all  at 
once. 

"  It's  just  awful  mean!" 

"  If  we  only  could  do  something!" 

"Girls!"  Josie  put  her  foot  so  firmly  on  the 
ground  it  almost  tipped  them  out.  "  Girls,  let  us 
see  Mr.  Reed  and  ask  him." 

They  all  looked  at  each  other  with  large  eyes. 

"It  couldn't  be  wrong,"  began  Josie;  "because 
I've  asked  your  father,  Hanny,  to  let  you  come 
up  to  our  stoop." 


JOHN  ROBERT  CHARLES      257 

"  No,  it  couldn't  be,"  said  the  chorus  in  firm 
approval. 

"  Then  let's  do  it.  He  always  comes  up  First 
Avenue  about  half-past  five  on  Saturdays.  Now 
if  we  were  to  walk  down " 

"Splendid!"  ejaculated  Tudie. 

"  And  I'll  ask  mother  if  we  can't  go  out  for  a 
little  walk." 

"  We  mustn't  wait  too  late." 

Tudie  ran  in  to  look  at  the  kitchen  clock.  It 
was  twenty  minutes  past  five. 

"I '11  go  and  ask." 

"Why,  isn't  your  own  sidewalk  good  enough?" 
was  Mrs.  Dean's  inquiry.  "Well — yes,  you  may 
do  an  errand  for  me  down  at  the  store.  I  want  a 
pound  of  butter  crackers.  Don't  go  off  the 
block." 

They  put  on  their  bonnets.  Hanny's  was  a 
pretty  shirred  and  ruffled  blue  lawn.  They 
twined  their  arms  around  each  other's  waists, 
with  Hanny  in  the  middle  and  walked  slowly 
down  to  the  store.  Tudie  kept  watch  while  her 
sister  was  making  the  purchase.  Then  they 
walked  up,  then  down,  looking  on  the  other  side 
lest  they  should  not  see  him.  Up  and  down 
again — up  with  very  slow  steps.  What  if  they 
should  miss  him ! 

They  turned.     "Hillo!"  cried  a  familiar  voice. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Reed!"  They  blocked  his  way  in  a 
17 


258    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

manner  that  amused  him.  He  looked  from  one 
to  the  other,  and  smiled  at  the  eager  faces. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Reed — we  wanted  to — to " 

"  To  ask  you "  prompted  Tudie. 

Josie's  face  was  very  red.  It  was  different  ask 
ing  about  a  boy.  She  had  not  thought  of  that. 

"  We  want  Charles  to  go  to  singing-school  with 
us  next  Saturday.  Mr.  Bradbury  said  we  might 
ask  all  the  nice  children  we  knew. " 

Hanny  had  crossed  the  Rubicon  in  a  very  lady 
like  manner. 

Mr.  Reed  laughed  pleasantly,  but  they  knew  he 
was  not  making  fun  of  them. 

"Why,  yes;  I  haven't  any  objection.  It  will 
be  as  his  mother  says. " 

They  all  looked  blank,  disappointed. 

"If  you  would  say  it,"  pleaded  Josie.  "Then 
we  should  be  sure. " 

"  Well,  I  will  say  it.  He  shall  go  next  Satur 
day.  He  has  a  nice  voice,  and  there  is  no  reason 
why  he  should  not  be  singing  with  the  rest  of 
you." 

"  Oh,  thank  you  a  thousand  times. " 

"It's  hardly  worth  that. "  Mr.  Reed  was  a  little 
nettled.  Had  Charles  put  them  up  to  this? 

They  were  at  the  corner  and  turned  down  their 
side  of  the  street,  nodding  gayly. 

"You  see  it  was  just  as  easy  as  nothing,"  re 
marked  Josie  complacently. 


JOHN  ROBERT  CHARLES      259 

Mr.  Reed  entered  his  own  area,  wiped  his  feet, 
and  hung  up  his  hat.  He  went  out  in  the  back 
area  and  washed  his  hands.  Every  other  day  a 
clean  towel  was  put  on  the  roller.  The  house 
was  immaculate.  The  supper-table  was  set. 
Mrs.  Reed  was  finishing  a  block  of  patchwork, 
catch-up  work,  when  she  had  to  wait  two  minutes. 
She  went  out  in  the  hall  taking  the  last  stitch,  and 
called  up  the  stairway: 

"John  Robert. Charles!" 

Meals  were  generally  very  quiet.  Charles  had 
been  trained  not  to  speak  unless  he  was  spoken 
to.  Once  or  twice  his  father  looked  at  him.  A 
pinafore  was  rather  ridiculous  on  such  a  big  boy. 
How  very  large  his  white  collar  was!  His  hair 
looked  too  sleek.  He  was  a  regular  Miss 
Nancy. 

He  helped  his  mother  take  out  the  dishes  and 
wiped  them  for  her. 

"Come  out  on  the  stoop,  Charles,"  said  his 
father  afterward,  as  he  picked  up  his  paper. 

Mrs.  Reed  wondered  if  Charles  had  committed 
some  overt  act  that  she  knew  nothing  about. 
Could  anything  elude  her  sharp  eyes? 

Mr.  Reed  pretended  to  be  busy  with  his  paper, 
but  he  was  thinking  of  his  son.  In  his  early 
years  the  child  had  been  a  bone  of  contention. 
His  mother  always  knew  just  what  to  do  with  him, 
just  what  was  proper,  and  would  brook  no  inter- 


260    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

ference.  What  with  her  cleanliness,  her  inordi 
nate  love  of  regularity  and  order,  she  had  become 
a  domestic  tyrant.  He  had  yielded  because  he 
loved  peace.  There  was  a  good  deal  of  comfort 
in  his  house.  He  went  out  two  or  three  evenings 
in  the  week,  to  the  lodge,  to  his  whist  club,  and 
occasionally  to  call  on  a  friend.  Mrs.  Reed  never 
had  any  time  to  waste  on  such  trifling  matters. 
He  had  not  thought  much  about  his  boy  except 
to  place  him  in  a  good  school. 

"  Charles,  couldn't  you  have  asked  me  about  the 
singing-school?"  he  said  rather  sharply. 

"About — the  singing-school?"  Charles  was 
dazed. 

"Yes.  It  wasn't  very  manly  to  set  a  lot  of 
little  girls  asking  a  favor  for  you.  I'm  ashamed 
of  you!" 

"  Oh,  father — who  asked?  We  were  talking  of 
it  over  to  Josie  Dean's.  I  knew  mother  wouldn't 
let  me  go.  I — I  said  so. "  Charles'  fair  face  was 
very  red. 

"You  put  them  up  to  ask!" 

"  No,  I  didn't.  They  never  said  a  word  about 
it.  Why,  I  wouldn't  have  asked  them  to  do 
it." 

Mr.  Reed  looked  suspiciously  at  his  son. 

"You  don't  care  to  go?" 

"Yes,  I  do,  very  much."  The  boy's  voice  was 
tremulous. 


JOHN  ROBERT  CHARLES       261 

"Why  couldn't  you  ask  me?" 

"  Because  you  would  leave  it  to  mother,  and  she 
would  say  it  was  not  worth  while." 

"Was  that  what  you  told  them?"  Mr.  Reed 
was  truly  mortified.  No  man  likes  to  be  consid 
ered  without  power  in  his  own  household. 

"I— I  think  it  was,"  hesitated  the  boy.  The 
girls  had  started  an  insurrection,  sure  enough. 
Well,  the  poor  lad  had  no  chance  before.  It  was 
not  a  hope  swept  away,  there  had  been  no  hope. 
But  now  he  gave  up. 

"Don't  be  a  fool  nor  a  coward,"  exclaimed  his 
father  gruffly.  "  Here,  get  your  hat  and  go 
straight  over  to  the  Deans'.  Tell  them  your 
father  says  you  can  go  to  singing-school  next 
Saturday  afternoon,  that  he  will  be  very  glad  to 
have  you  go.  And  next  time  you  want  anything 
ask  me. " 

If  the  boy  had  only  dared  clasp  his  father's 
hand  and  thank  him,  but  he  had  been  repressed 
and  snipped  off  and  kept  in  leading-strings  too 
long  to  dare  a  spontaneous  impulse.  So  he 
walked  over  as  if  he  had  been  following  some 
imaginary  chalk  line.  The  Deans  were  all  up  in 
the  back  parlor.  He  did  his  errand  and  came 
back  at  once,  before  Josie  and  Tudie  had  recov 
ered  from  their  surprise. 

Nothing  else  happened.  Mrs.  Reed  went  out 
presently  to  do  the  Saturday-night  marketing. 


262    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

She  ^referred  to  go  alone.  She  could  mate 
v,c;tter  bargains.  When  she  returned  Mr.  Reed 
lighted  his  cigar  and  took  a  stroll  around  the 
block.  There  was  no  smoking  in  the  house, 
hardly  in  the  back  yard. 

Saturday  noon  Mrs.  Reed  said  to  her  son : 

"  You  are  to  go  to  singing-school  this  afternoon. 
If  I  hear  of  your  loitering  with  any  bad  boys,  or 
misbehaving  in  any  way,  that  will  end  it." 

The  poor  lad  had  not  felt  sure  for  a  moment. 
Oh,  how  delightful  it  was !  though  a  boy  nudged 
him  and  said,  "  Sissy,  does  your  mother  know 
you're  out,"  and  two  or  three  others  called  him 
"  Anna  Maria  Jemima  Reed. " 

However,  as  Mr.  Bradbury  was  trying  voices 
by  each  row,  the  sweetness  of  Charles'  struck  him, 
and  he  asked  him  to  remain  when  the  others  were 
dismissed.  One  other  boy  and  several  girls  were 
in  this  favored  clasSj  and  next  week  they  had  the 
seats  of  honor. 

The  next  great  thing  for  all  the  children  was 
the  May  walk.  All  the  Sunday-schools  joined  in 
a  grand  procession  and  marched  down  Broadway 
to  Castle  Garden.  There  was  a  standard-bearer 
with  a  large  banner,  and  several  smaller  ones  in 
every  school.  The  teachers  were  with  the  classes, 
the  parents  and  friends  were  to  be  at  the  Garden. 
Most  of  the  little  girls  had  their  new  white 
dresses,  the  boys  their  summer  suits  and  caps. 


JOHN  ROBERT  CHARLES  263 

For  May  was  May  then,  all  but  Quaker  week, 
when  it  was  sure  to  rain. 

A  pretty  sight  it  was  indeed.  The  bright, 
happy  faces,  the  white-robed  throng,  and  almost 
every  girl  had  her  hair  curled  for  the  occasion. 
There  was  a  feeling  among  some  of  the  older  peo 
ple  that  curls  were  vain  and  sinful,  but  they  for 
gave  them  this  day. 

The  audience  was  ranged  around  the  outside. 
The  little  people  marched  in,  and  up  the  broad 
aisle,  singing: 

"We  come,  we  come,  with  loud  acclaim, 
To  sing  the  praise  of  Jesus'  name ; 
And  make  the  vaulted  temple  ring 
With  loud  hosannas  to  our  King." 

The  platform — they  called  it  that  on  such  occa 
sions — was  full  of  clergymen  and  speakers  for  the 
festival.  Some  of  the  older  eminent  divines, 
some  who  were  to  be  eminent  later  on,  some  of 
the  high  dignitaries  of  the  city;  and  they  could 
hardly  fail  to  be  inspired  at  the  sight  of  the  sweet, 
happy,  youthful  faces. 

And  how  they  sang !  The  most  popular  thing 
of  that  day  was : 

"There  is  a  happy  land- 
Far,  far  away. " 

It  was  fresh  then  and  had  not  been  parodied  to 


264    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

everything.  No  doubt  it  would  have  shocked 
some  of  the  sticklers  if  they  had  known  that  the 
words  and  tune  were,  in  a  measure,  adapted  from  a 
pretty  opera  song: 

"  I  have  come  from  a  happy  land. 

Where  care  is  unknown ; 
And  first  in  a  joyous  band 
I'll  make  thee  mine  own." 

There  were  many  other  hymns  that  appealed  to 
the  hearts  of  the  children  of  those  days.  "  I  Think 
When  I  Read  that  Sweet  Story  of  Old,"  and 
"Jesus  Loves  Me,  this  I  Know." 

There  were  speeches,  short  and  to  the  point, 
some  with  a  glint  of  humor  in  them,  and  then 
hymns  again.  Perhaps  we  have  done  better  since, 
but  the  grand  enthusiasm  of  that  time  has  not 
been  reached  in  later  reunions. 

It  seemed  to  the  little  girl  that  this  really  was 
the  crowning  glory  of  her  life.  She  could  not 
have  guessed  under  what  circumstances  she  was 
to  recall  it,  indeed  this  day  had  no  future  to  her. 
At  first  her  mother  had  insisted  the  walk  was  too 
long,  but  Steve  said  he  and  Dolly  would  bring 
her  home  in  the  carriage.  Margaret  promised  to 
get  her  new  white  dress  done,  and  it  was  to  be 
tucked  almost  up  to  the  waist.  Her  mother  gave 
in  at  last,  and  went  down  to  see  the  children,  be 
ing  delighted  herself. 


JOHN  ROBERT  CHARLES       265 

Aunt  Eunice  was  there,  too.  She  had  come  to 
the  city  for  the  long-talked-of  visit,  and  next  week 
was  to  be  Quaker  Meeting.  She  had  not  been  to 
one  in  years.  Indeed,  she  could  hardly  call  her 
self  a  Friend.  She  had  married  out  of  the  faith 
and  said  you  oftener  than  thee,  but  she  kept  to 
the  pretty,  soft  gray  attire  and  plain  bonnet. 

Hanny  and  the  Deans  and  Nora  thought  her 
"just  lovely."  Hanny  went  to  the  Friends'  Meet 
ing- House  with  her  on  Sunday  afternoon,  down  in 
Hester  Street.  It  was  severely  plain,  and  the 
men  sat  on  one  side,  the  women  on  the  other,  while 
a  few  seats  were  reserved  for  any  of  the  world's 
people  that  might  stray  in.  The  men  looked  odd, 
Hanny  thought,  with  their  long  hair  just "  banged" 
across  the  forehead  and  falling  over  their  collars. 
The  coats  were  queer,  too,  and  they  kept  on  their 
hats,  which  shocked  her  a  little  at  first. 

Oh,  how  still  it  was !  Hanny  waited  and  waited 
for  the  minister,  but  she  could  not  see  any  pulpit. 
There  was  no  singing,  only  that  solemn  silence. 
If  she  had  been  a  little  Quaker  girl  she  would 
have  been  thinking  of  her  sins,  and  making  new 
resolves.  Instead  she  watched  the  faces.  Some 
were  very  sweet ;  many  old  and  wrinkled. 

Suddenly  an  old  gentleman  arose  and  talked  a 
few  moments.  When  he  sat  down  a  tall  woman 
laid  off  her  hat  and,  standing  up,  began  to  speak 
in  a  more  vigorous  manner  than  the  brother. 


266    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

She  seemed  almost  scolding,  Hanny  thought. 
After  her,  another  silence,  then  a  lovely  old  lady 
with  a  soft  voice  told  of  the  blessings  she  had 
found  and  the  peace  they  ought  all  to  seek. 

Everybody  rose  and  went  out  quietly. 

"  It  doesn't  seem  a  real  church,  Aunt  Eunice," 
said  Hanny.  "  And  there  was  no  minister. " 

"Oh,  child,  it  isn't!  It's  just  a  meeting.  It 
did  not  seem  very  spiritual  to-day. " 

"  If  they  only  had  some  singing." 

Aunt  Eunice  smiled,  but  made  no  reply. 
Hanny  decided  she  did  not  want  to  be  a  Friend. 

They  went  down  to  visit  Aunt  Nancy  and  Aunt 
Patience,  and  Margaret  took  Aunt  Eunice  up  to 
see  Miss  Lois  Underbill,  who  had  gone  on  living 
alone.  She  said  she  could  never  take  root  in  any 
other  place,  and  perhaps  it  was  true.  Her  kindly 
German  neighbor  looked  after  her,  but  she  was 
very  grateful  for  a  visit. 

Steve  was  building  his  new  house  and  they 
thought  to  get  in  it  by  the  fall.  It  was  on  the 
plot  Dolly's  father  had  given  her  at  Twentieth 
Street  near  Fifth  Avenue.  The  Coventry  Wad- 
dells,  who  were  really  the  leaders  of  fashionable 
society,  were  erecting  a  very  handsome  and  pic 
turesque  mansion  on  Murray  Hill,  between  Fifth 
and  Sixth  avenues  on  Thirty-eighth  Street. 
The  grounds  took  the  whole  block.  There  were 
towers  and  gables  and  oriels,  and  a  large  conser- 


JOHN  ROBERT  CHARLES       267 

vatory  that  was  to  contain  all  manner  of  rare 
plants,  native  as  well  as  foreign.  But  everybody 
thought  it  quite  out  in  the  country. 

Steve  laughingly  said  they  would  have  fine 
neighbors.  The  Waddells  were  noted  for  their 
delightful  entertaining. 

They  took  Aunt  Eunice  a  walk  down  Broadway 
to  show  her  the  sights.  The  "dollar  side"  had 
become  the  accepted  promenade.  Already  there 
were  some  quite  notable  people  who  were  pointed 
out  to  visitors.  You  could  see  Mr.  N.  P.  Willis, 
who  was  then  at  the  zenith  of  his  fame.  When  a 
Sunday-school  entertainment  wanted  to  give 
something  particularly  fine,  the  best  speaker  re 
cited  his  poem,  "The  Leper,"  which  was  consid 
ered  very  striking.  There  was  Lewis  Gaylord 
Clark,  of  The  Knickerbocker,  who  wrote  charm 
ing  letters,  and  these  two  were  admitted  to  be  very 
handsome  men.  There  was  George  P.  Morris, 
whose  songs  were  sung  everywhere,  and  not  a 
few  literary  ladies.  There  was  the  Broadway 
swell  in  patent-leather  boots  and  trousers  strapped 
tightly  down,  in  the  style  the  boys  irreverently 
called  pegtops.  He  had  a  high-standing  collar, 
a  fancy  tie,  a  light  silk  waistcoat  with  a  heavy 
watch-chain  and  seal,  a  coat  with  large,  loose 
sleeves,  a  high  hat,  and  carried  his  cane  under  his 
arm,  while,  as  one  of  the  writers  of  the  day  said, 
"  he  ambled  along  daintily. " 


268    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Then  you  might  meet  the  Hammersley  carriage 
with  its  footman  and  livery  that  had  made  quite 
a  talk.  Young  and  handsome  Mrs.  Little,  whose 
marriage  to  an  old  man  had  been  the  gossip  of  the 
season,  sat  in  elegant  state  with  her  coachman  in 
dark  blue.  Now  one  hardly  notes  the  handsome 
equipages,  or  the  livery  either. 

But  the  "  Bowery  boy"  was  as  great  a  feature  of 
the  time  as  the  Broadway  swell.  He,  too,  wore  a 
silk  hat,  and  it  generally  had  a  three-inch  mourn 
ing  band.  His  hair  was  worn  in  long,  well-oiled 
locks  in  front,  combed  up  with  a  peculiar  twist. 
He  wore  a  broad  collar  turned  over,  and  a  sailor 
tie,  a  flashy  vest  with  a  large  amount  of  seal  and 
chain,  and  wide  trousers  turned  up.  His  coat  he 
carried  on  his  arm  when  the  weather  permitted, 
and  he  always  had  a  cigar  in  the  lower  corner  of 
his  mouth.  He  walked  with  a  swagger  and  a 
swing  that  took  half  the  sidewalk.  He  ran  "  wid  de 
machine,"  and  a  fire  was  his  delight;  to  get  into 
a  fight  his  supreme  happiness.  He  really  did  not 
frequent  the  Bowery  so  much  as  the  side  streets. 
There  were  little  stores  where  cigars  and  beer 
were  sold,  something  stronger  perhaps,  and  they 
were  generally  kept  by  some  old  lady  who  could 
also  get  up  a  meal  on  a  short  notice  after  a  fire. 
On  summer  nights  they  had  chairs  out  in  front 
of  the  door,  and  tilting  back  on  two  legs  would 
smoke  and  take  their  comfort.  For  diversion 


JOHN  ROBERT  CHARLES  269 

they  went  to  Vauxhall  Garden  or  the  pit  of  the 
Bowery  Theatre.  Yet  they  were  quite  a  pictur 
esque  feature  of  old  New  York. 

Bowery  and  Grand  Street  were  the  East  Side's 
shopping  marts.  Stewart  was  building  a  marble 
palace  at  the  corner  of  Broadway  and  Chambers 
Street.  You  went  to  Division  and  Canal  streets 
for  your  bonnets.  There  were  a  few  private 
milliners  who  made  to  order  and  imported. 

There  were  sails  and  short  journeys  to  take 
even  then.  Elysian  Fields  had  not  lost  all  its 
glory.  And  yet  the  little  girl  was  quite  disap 
pointed  in  her  visit  to  it.  She  had  lived  in  the 
country,  you  know,  she  had  looked  off  the  Sound 
at  Rye  Beach  and  seen  the  Hudson  from  Tarry- 
town  and  Sleepy  Hollow,  and  really  there  were 
lovely  spots  up  the  old  Bloomingdale  road.  And 
she  had  pictured  this  as  beyond  all. 

Aunt  Eunice  was  very  much  struck  with  the 
changes.  Her  surprise  really  delighted  the  little 
girl.  They  took  her  over  in  Hammersley  Street. 
Old  Mr.  Bounett  seemed  quite  feeble,  and  though 
he  was  not  in  his  court  attire,  he  had  a  ruffled 
shirt-front  and  small-clothes.  Aunt  Eunice 
thought  him  delightful.  It  seemed  queer  to 
think  of  a  French  quarter  in  New  York  in  the 
old  part  of  the  last  century  where  people  met 
and  read  from  the  French  poets  and  dramatists, 
and  almost  believed  when  civilization  set  in  ear- 


270    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

nestly,  French  must  be  the  polite  language  of  the 
day. 

The  little  girl  felt  quite  as  if  she  was  one  of  the 
hostesses  of  the  city.  She  knew  so  many  strange 
things  and  could  find  her  way  about  so  well. 
And  yet  she  was  only  ten  years  old. 

Aunt  Eunice  thought  her  a  quaint,  delightful 
little  body,  and  wise  for  her  years.  But  she  was 
small.  Nora  Whitney  had  outgrown  her,  and  the 
Dean  children  were  getting  so  large.  As  for  the 
boys,  they  grew  like  weeds,  and  the  trouble  now 
was  what  to  do  with  Ben.  There  was  no  free 
academy  in  those  days,  but  the  public  school  gave 
you  a  good  and  thorough  education  in  the  useful 
branches. 


Cbaptet  fifteen. 

A    PLAY   IN    THE   BACK   YARD. 

THE  pretty  block  in  First  Street  that  had  been 
so  clean  and  genteel,  a  word  used  very  much  at 
that  time,  was  fast  changing.  The  lower  part  on 
the  south  side  was  filling  up  with  undesirable 
people,  some  foreigners  who  crowded  three  fam 
ilies  into  a  house.  Houston  Street  was  growing 
gaudy  and  common  with  Jew  stores.  And  oh, 
the  children!  There  was  a  large  bakery  where 
they  sold  cheap  bread,  and  in  the  afternoon  there 
really  was  a  procession  coming  in  and  going  out. 

Chris  and  Lily  Ludlow  had  teased  their  mother 
to  move.  The  place  was  comfortable  and  near 
their  father's  business,  so  why  should  they?  But 
the  girls  Lily  was  intimate  with  had  moved  away, 
and  she  hated  to  go  around  Avenue  A  to  school. 

There  were  changes  at  the  upper  end  as  well. 
The  Weirs  had  gone  from  next  door,  and  two 
families  with  small  children  had  taken  the  house. 
The  babies  seemed  so  pudgy  and  untidy  that  the 
little  girl  did  not  fancy  them  much.  Frank 
Whitney  was  married  with  quite  a  fine  wedding- 
party,  and  had  gone  to  Williamsburg  to  live. 
271 


272    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Mrs.  Whitney  had  rented  two  rooms  in  the  house 
to  a  dressmaker.  Delia  was  almost  grown  up. 
She  had  shot  into  a  tall  girl,  though  she  would 
have  her  dresses  short ;  she  despised  young  lady 
hood.  She  was  smart  and  capable.  She  helped 
with  the  meals ;  often,  indeed,  her  mother  did  not 
come  down  until  breakfast  was  ready,  when  she 
had  had  a  "bad  night."  That  was  when  she  read 
novels  in  bed  until  two  or  three  o'clock.  Delia 
swept  the  house — she  often  did  wash  on  Saturday, 
though  her  brother  scolded  when  she  did  it.  She 
was  the  same  jolly,  eager,  careless  girl,  and  de 
lighted  in  a  game  of  tag,  but  she  could  so  easily 
outrun  the  smaller  children.  She  and  Jim  some 
times  raced  round  the  block,  one  going  in  one 
direction,  one  in  the  other,  and  Jim  didn't  always 
beat,  either. 

Then  she  would  sit  out  on  the  stoop  with  a 
crowd  of  children  and  tell  wonderful  stories.  She 
didn't  explain  that  they  were  largely  made  up 
"out  of  her  own  head."  Next  door  above  the 
Deans  two  new  little  girls  had  come,  very  nice 
children,  who  played  with  dolls.  There  was  quite 
an  array  when  five  little  girls  had  their  best  dolls 
out.  Nora  generally  brought  Pussy  Gray,  and 
they  were  always  entertained  with  her  talking. 

Some  boys  had  invaded  the  Reed's  side  of  the 
block.  Charles  had  strict  injunctions  not  to 
parley  with  them.  But  one  went  in  an  office  as 


A  PLAY  IN  THE  BACK  YARD  273 

errand  boy,  and  the  other  quite  disdained  Jane 
Robertine  Charlotte,  as  he  called  him.  It  did 
begin  to  annoy  Mr.  Reed  to  have  his  son  made 
the  butt  of  the  street.  He  was  a  nice,  obedient, 
upright,  orderly  boy.  What  was  lacking?  In 
some  respects  he  was  very  manly.  Mr.  Reed 
suddenly  concluded  that  a  woman  wasn't  capable 
of  bringing  up  boys,  and  he  must  take  him  in 
hand. 

For  two  weeks  Mrs.  Reed  had  been  threatening 
to  cut  his  hair.  The  boys  said,  "  Sissy,  why  don't 
your  mother  put  your  hair  up  in  curl  papers?"  It 
looked  so  dreadful  when  it  was  first  cut  that 
Charles  always  spent  these  weeks  between  Scylla 
and  Charybdis.  He  knew  all  about  the  rock  and 
the  whirlpools.  But  something  had  been  happen 
ing  all  the  time,  even  to  this  Saturday  afternoon, 
when  all  the  silver  had  to  be  scoured.  Mr.  Reed 
inspected  his  son  as  he  sat  at  the  supper-table. 
He  had  a  rather  poetical  appearance  with  his  long 
hair  curling  at  the  ends,  but  it  was  no  look  for  a 
boy. 

"  Don't  you  want  to  take  a  walk  down  the  street 
with  me?"  said  his  father. 

Charles  started  as  if  he  had  been  struck. 

"  I'm  dead  tired  and  I  want  him  to  wipe  my 
dishes.  I  haven't  been  off  my  feet  since  five 
o'clock  this  morning  only  at  meal-time.  Then  he 
/mist  go  to  the  store." 


274    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"I'll  wait  until  then." 

Mrs.  Reed  looked  sharply  at  them.  Had 
Charles  done  something  that  had  escaped  her  ali- 
sided  vision  and  was  his  father  going  to  take  him 
to  task?  Or  was  there  a  conspiracy? 

"What  do  you  want  him  for?"  she  inquired 
sharply. 

"Oh,  I  thought  we'd  walk  down  the  street." 

"  Smoking  a  cigar,  of  course,"  as  Mr.  Reed  took 
one  out  of  his  case.  "  It  certainly  won't  be  your 
fault  if  the  child  hasn't  every  bad  tendency  under 
the  sun.  I've  done  my  best.  And  you  know 
smoking  is  a  vile  habit." 

Mr.  Reed  had  long  ago  learned  the  wisdom 
of  silence,  which  was  even  better  than  a  soft 
answer. 

Charles  put  on  a  pinafore  that  hung  in  the 
kitchen  closet.  He  could  dry  dishes  beautifully. 

"You've  been  cutting  behind  on  stages,"  said 
his  mother.  "  Some  one  has  told  your  father." 

"  No,  I  haven't.     Upon  my  word  and  honor." 

"  That's  next  to  swearing,  John  Robert  Charles. 
How  often  have  I  told  you  these  little  things  lead 
to  confirmed  bad  habits." 

John  Robert  Charles  was  silent. 

"Well,  you've  done  something.  And  if  your 
father  does  once  take  you  in  hand " 

The  boy  trembled.  This  awful  threat  had  been 
held  over  him  for  years.  Nothing  had  come  of 


A  PLAY  IN  THE  BACK  YARD  275 

it,  so  it  couldn't  as  yet  be  compared  to  Mrs.  Joe 
Gargery's  "rampage." 

Mr.  Reed  sat  comfortably  on  the  front  stoop 
smoking  and  reading.  The  wind  drove  the  smoke 
straight  down  the  street,  and  not  into  the  house. 
How  it  could  get  in  with  the  windows  shut  down 
was  a  mystery,  but  it  seemed  to  sometimes. 

Charles  brushed  his  hair  and  washed  his  hands. 

"  I  must  cut  your  hair.  I  ought  to  do  it  this 
very  night,  tired  as  I  am.  Now  brush  your 
clothes  and  go  out  to  your  father.  I'll  be  think 
ing  up  what  I  want.  Pepper  is  one  thing.  Go 
down  to  the  old  man's  and  get  some  horseradish. 
If  there  is  anything  else  I'll  come  out  and  tell 
you. " 

Charles  went  reluctantly  out  to  the  front 
stoop. 

"Hillo!"  said  his  father  cheerfully.  "You 
through?" 

That  did  not  sound  very  threatening. 

"We  are  to  get  pepper  and  horseradish." 

Mr.  Reed  nodded,  folded  his  paper  and,  slipping 
it  into  his  pocket,  settled  his  hat. 

"  Mother  may  think  of  something  else." 

She  positively  couldn't.  She  considered  that  it 
saved  time  to  do  errands  when  you  were  going 
out,  and  she  spent  a  great  deal  of  time  trying  to 
think  how  to  save  it. 

They  walked  down  First  Avenue  past  Houston 


276    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Street.  Almost  at  the  end  of  the  next  block  there 
was  a  barber-pole  with  its  stripes  running  round. 
The  barber-pole  and  the  Indian  at  the  cigar  shops 
were  features  of  that  day,  as  well. 

"Wouldn't  you  like  to  have  your  hair  cut, 
Charles?"  inquired  his  father. 

The  world  swam  round  so  that  Charles  was 
minded  to  clutch  the  barber-pole,  but  he  bethought 
himself  in  time  that  it  was  dusty.  He  looked  at 
his  father  in  amaze. 

"  Oh,  don't  be  a  ninny!  No  one  will  take  your 
head  off.  Come,  you're  big  enough  boy  to  go  to 
the  barber's." 

The  palace  of  delight  seemed  opening  before 
the  boy.  No  one  can  rightly  understand  his  sat 
isfaction  at  this  late  day.  The  mothers,  you  see, 
used  to  cut  hair  as  they  thought  was  right,  and 
nearly  every  mother  had  a  different  idea  except 
those  whose  idea  was  simply  to  cut  it  off. 

They  had  to  wait  awhile.  Charles  sat  down  in 
a  padded  chair,  had  a  large  white  towel  pinned 
close  up  under  his  chin,  his  hair  combed  out  with 
the  softest  touch  imaginable.  The  barber's 
hands  were  silken  soft;  his  mother's  were  hard 
and  rough.  Snip,  snip,  snip,  comb,  brush, 
sprinkle  some  fragrance  out  of  a  bottle  with  a 
pepper-sauce  cork — bulbs  and  sprays  had  not  been 
invented.  Oh,  how  delightful  it  was !  He  really 
did  not  want  to  get  down  and  go  home. 


A  PLAY  IN  THE  BACK  YARD  277 

Mr.  Reed  had  been  talking  to  an  acquaintance. 
The  other  chair  being  vacant,  he  had  his  beard 
trimmed.  He  was  not  sure  whether  he  would 
have  it  taken  off  this  summer,  though  he  gen 
erally  did.  He  turned  his  head  a  little  and  looked 
at  his  son.  He  wasn't  as  poetical  looking,  but 
really,  he  was  a  nice,  clean,  wholesome,  and — yes 
— manly  boy.  But  he  blushed  scarlet. 

"That  looks  something  like,"  was  his  father's 
comment.  What  a  nice  broad  forehead  Charles 
had! 

"He's  a  nice  boy,"  said  the  barber  in  a  low 
tone.  "  Boy  to  be  proud  of.  I  wish  there  were 
more  like  him." 

Mr.  Reed  paid  his  bill  and  they  went  to  the 
store.  Then  they  strolled  on  down  the  street. 
But  Charles  was  in  distress  lest  the  pungent  berry 
and  odoriferous  root  should  take  the  barber's 
sweetness  out  of  him.  He  was  puzzled,  too.  It 
seemed  to  him  he  ought  to  say  something  grateful 
to  his  father.  He  was  so  very,  very  glad  at  heart. 
But  it  was  so  hard  to  talk  to  his  father.  He 
always  envied  Jim  and  Ben  Underbill  their  father. 
He  had  found  it  easy  to  talk  to  him  on  several 
occasions. 

"I  must  say  you  are  improved,"  his  father 
began  presently.  "  You  mother  has  too  much  to 
do  bothering  about  household  affairs.  And  you're 
getting  to  be  a  big  boy.  Why  don't  you  find 


278    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

some  boys  to  go  with?  There  are  those  Under- 
hills.  You're  too  big  to  play  with  girls." 

"  But  mother  doesn't  like  boys,"  hesitatingly. 

"You  should  have  been  a  girl!"  declared  his 
father  testily.  "  But  since  you're  not,  do  try  to  be 
a  little  more  manly." 

The  father  hardly  knew  what  to  say  himself. 
And  yet  he  felt  that  he  did  love  his  son. 

They  were  just  at  the  area  gate.  Charles 
caught  his  father's  hand.  "  I'm  so  glad,"  breath 
lessly.  "  The  boys  have  laughed  at  me,  and  you — 
you've  been  so  good." 

Mr.  Reed  was  really  touched.  They  entered 
the  basement.  Mrs.  Reed,  like  Mrs.  Gargery, 
still  had  on  her  apron.  Charles  put  the  pepper  in 
the  canister,  his  mother  took  care  of  the  horse 
radish.  Then  he  sat  down  with  his  history. 

"  For  pity's  sake,  Abner  Reed,  what  have  you 
done  to  that  child!  He  looks  like  a  scarecrow! 
He's  shaved  thin  in  one  place  and  great  tufts  left 
in  another.  I  was  going  to  cut  his  hair  this  very 
evening.  And  I'll  trim  it  to  some  decency  now." 

She  sprang  up  for  the  shears. 

"You  will  let  him  alone,"  said  Mr.  Reed,  in  a 
firm,  dignified  tone.  "  He  is  quite  old  enough  to 
look  like  other  boys.  When  I  want  him  to  go  to 
the  barber's  I'll  take  him.  You  will  find  enough 
to  do.  Charles,  get  a  lamp  and  go  up  to  your 
own  room. " 


A  PLAY  IN  THE  BACK  YARD  279 

"  I  don't  allow  him  to  have  a  lamp  in  his  room. 
He  will  set  something  a-fire." 

"  Then  go  up  in  the  parlor. " 

"The  parlor!"  his  mother  shrieked. 

"I'll  go  to  bed,"  said  Charles.  "I  know  my 
lesson. " 

There  was  a  light  in  the  upper  hall.  On 
the  second  floor  were  the  sleeping-chambers. 
Charles'  was  the  back  hall  room.  He  could  see 
very  well  from  the  light  up  the  stairway. 

What  happened  in  the  basement  dining-room 
he  could  not  even  imagine.  His  father  so  seldom 
interfered  in  any  matter,  and  his  mother  had  a 
way  of  talking  him  down.  But  Charles  was  asleep 
when  they  came  to  bed. 

Still,  he  had  a  rather  hard  day  on  Sunday.  His 
mother  was  coldly  severe  and  captious.  Once  she 
said: 

"  I  can't  bear  to  look  at  you,  you  are  so  dis 
figured!  If  that  is  what  your  father  calls 
style "  and  she  shook  her  head  disapprov 
ingly. 

He  went  to  church  and  Sunday-school,  and 
then  his  father  took  him  up  to  Tompkins  Square 
for  a  walk.  It  seemed  as  if  they  had  never  been 
acquainted  before.  Why,  his  father  was  real  jolly. 
And  it  was  a  nice  week  at  school  after  the  boys 
got  done  asking  him  "  Who  his  Barber  was?"  He 
could  see  the  big  B  they  put  to  it. 


280    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

On  Saturday  afternoon  Mrs.  Reed  had  to  go  out 
shopping  with  a  cousin.  She  was  an  excellent 
shopper.  She  could  find  flaws,  and  beat  down, 
and  get  a  spool  of  cotton  or  a  piece  of  tape  thrown 
in.  When  Charles  came  home  from  singing- 
school  he  was  to  go  over  to  the  Deans  and  play  in 
the  back  yard.  He  was  not  to  be  out  on  the  side 
walk  at  all. 

They  were  going  to  have  a  splendid  time. 
Elsie  and  Florence  Hay  would  bring  their  dolls. 
Even  Josie  envied  the  pretty  names,  though  she 
confessed  to  Hanny  that  she  didn't  think  Hay 
was  nice,  because  it  made  you  think  of  "hay, 
straw,  oats"  on  the  signs  at  the  feed  stores. 
But  the  girls  were  very  sweet  and  pleasant.  Nora 
had  come  in  with  the  cat  dressed  in  one  of  her 
own  long  baby  frocks. 

Hanny  ran  in  to  get  her  doll.  It  was  still  her 
choice  possession,  and  had  been  named  and  un 
named.  Her  mother  began  to  think  she  was  too 
big  to  play  with  dolls,  but  Margaret  had  made  it 
such  a  pretty  wardrobe. 

Ben  sat  at  the  front  basement  window  reading. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Underbill  had  gone  up  to  see  Miss 
Lois,  who  was  far  from  well.  Margaret  was  out 
on  "  professional  rounds, "  which  Ben  thought  quite 
a  suggestive  little  phrase.  Martha  was  scrubbing 
and  of  course  he  couldn't  talk  to  her.  He  had 
cut  the  side  of  his  foot  with  a  splinter  of  glass, 


A  PLAY  IN  THE  BACK  YARD  281 

and  his  mother  would  not  allow  him  to  put  on  his 
shoe. 

Hanny  brought  down  her  doll.  Ben  looked 
rather  wistfully  at  her. 

"  I  wish  you'd  come  in  too.  We're  going  to 
have  such  a  nice  time,"  she  said  in  a  soft  tone. 

"I'd  look  fine  playing  with  dolls." 

"  But  you  needn't  really  play  with  dolls.  Mrs. 
Dean  doesn't.  She's  the  grandmother.  We  go  to 
visit  her,  and  she  tells  us  about  the  old  times,  just 
as  Aunt  Nancy  and  Aunt  Patience  do.  Of  course 
she  wasn't  there  really,  she  makes  believe,  you 
know.  And  you  might  be  the — the " 

"Grandfather  who  had  lost  his  leg  in  the 
war. " 

Ben  laughed.     He  had  half  a  mind  to  go. 

"  Oh,  that  would  be  splendid.  And  you  could 
be  a  prisoner  when  the  British  held  New  York. 
There 'd  be  such  lots  to  talk  about.  You  could 
wear  John's  slipper,  you  see " 

She  smiled  so  persuasively.  She  would  never 
be  as  handsome  as  Margaret,  but  she  had  such 
tender,  coaxing  eyes,  and  such  a  sweet  mouth. 

"Well,  I'll  bring  my  book  along."  It  was  one 
of  Cooper's  novels  that  boys  were  going  wild  over 
just  then.  "  Do  you  really  think  they'd  like  to 
have  me?" 

"  Oh,  I  know  they  would,  "eagerly 

Ben  had  to  walk  rather  one-sided.     Joe  said  he 


282     A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

must  not  bear  any  weight  on  the  outside  of  his 
foot  to  press  the  wound  open. 

"I've  brought  Ben,"  announced  the  little  girl. 
"  And  he's  going  to  be  a  Revolutionary  soldier." 

"We  are  very  glad  to  see  him,"  and  Mrs.  Dean 
rose.  She  had  a  white  kerchief  crossed  on  her 
breast,  and  a  pretty  cap  pinned  up  for  the  occa 
sion. 

The  yard  was  shady  in  the  afternoon.  There 
was  a  piece  of  carpet  spread  on  the  grass,  and 
some  chairs  arranged  on  it,  and  two  or  three  rugs 
laid  around.  On  the  space  paved  with  brick  stood 
the  table,  and  two  boxes  were  the  dish  closets. 
There  were  some  cradles,  and  a  bed  arranged  on 
another  box.  It  really  was  a  pretty  picture. 

Josie  and  Charles  were  generally  the  mother 
and  father  of  one  household.  Charles  blushed  up 
to  the  roots  of  his  hair.  He  liked  playing  with 
the  girls,  when  he  was  the  only  boy,  with  no  one 
to  laugh  at  him. 

"  Now  you  mustn't  mind  me  or  I  shall  go  back 
home  and  stay  all  alone,"  said  Ben.  That  ap 
pealed  to  everybody's  sympathy.  "  I'm  coming 
over  here  to  talk  to  grandmother  about  what  we 
did  when  we  were  young. " 

Grandmother  had  some  knitting.  People  even 
then  knit  their  husband's  winter  stockings  because 
they  wore  so  much  better.  "And  Mrs.  Penny- 
packer,  you  might  come  and  call  on  us. " 


A  PLAY  IN  THE  BACK  YARD  283 

Nora  laughed.  That  was  Ben's  favorite  name 
for  her  when  she  had  the  cat. 

The  soft  gray  head  and  the  gray  paws  looked 
rather  qiieer  out  of  the  long  white  dress.  Pussy 
Gray  had  a  white  nose  and  his  eyes  were  fastened 
in  with  a  black  streak  that  looked  like  a  ribbon. 

"  How  is  your  son  to-day?"  Ben  inquired. 

"  He  is  pretty  well,  except  he's  getting  some 
teeth.  Ain't  you,  darling?"  and  Nora  hugged  him 
up. 

"Wow,"  said  Kitty  softly. 

"  Have  you  had  the  doctor?" 

"No-o,"  answered  Kitty,  looking  up  pathet 
ically. 

"  I'm  afraid  I've  neglected  him,"  explained  Mrs. 
Pennypacker.  "You  poor  darling!  But  your 
mother  has  been  so  busy." 

"  Meaow,"  said  Kitty  resignedly. 

"  Are  you  hungry,  dear?  Would  you  like  a  bit 
of  cold  chicken?  He  has  to  have  something  to 
keep  up  his  strength.  Teething  is  so  hard  on 
children. " 

"Me-e-a-ow,"  returned  Kitty,  with  plaintive 
affirmation. 

Mrs.  Pennypacker  went  over  to  the  table  and 
gave  him  a  mouthful  of  something.  If  it  wasn't 
chicken  it  answered  the  purpose.  Then  she  sat 
down  to  rock  him  to  sleep  and  asked  Ben  in  what 
battle  he  had  lost  his  leg. 


?84    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Ben  thought  it  was  the  battle  of  White  Plains. 
He  was  very  young  at  the  time. 

"  How  hard  it  must  be  to  have  a  wooden  leg," 
sighed  Nora.  "  And  of  course  you  can't  dance  a 
bit." 

"Oh,  no,  indeed!" 

"  Did  they  treat  you  very  badly  when  you  were 
a  prisoner?" 

"  Dreadful,"  answered  Ben.  "  They  didn't  give 
us  half  enough  to  eat." 

"  That  was  terrible.  I  hope  you'll  be  contented 
here,  where  everything  is  so  nice  and  cheerful.  I 
am  going  to  see  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brown  now." 

"  Please  give  them  my  compliments  and  tell 
them  I  should  be  very  happy  to  have  them  call. " 

Charles  had  been  watching  Ben  furtively  with 
an  apprehension  that  the  real  enjoyment  of  the 
afternoon  would  be  spoiled.  And  no  doubt  he 
would  tell  the  Houston  Street  boys  "  all  about  it. " 
He  was  hardly  prepared  to  see  Ben  enter  so  into 
the  spirit  of  the  "make  believe." 

Then  Ben  and  Mrs.  Dean  had  a  little  talk 
that  might  have  been  considered  an  anachronism, 
since  it  was  about  the  foot  still  fast  to  his  body. 
He  had  stepped  on  a  piece  of  glass  in  the  stable, 
and  it  had  gone  through  the  old  shoe  he  had  on 
for  that  kind  of  work.  But  Joe  had  seen  it  that 
morning  and  thought  it  would  get  along  all  right. 

They  were  talking  very  eagerly  over  the  other 


A  PLAY  IN  THE  BACK  YARD  285 

side  of  the  city.  And  presently  quite  a  proces 
sion  came  to  call  on  the  old  veteran.  Ben  and 
Charles  fell  into  a  discussion  about  some  battles, 
and  the  misfortune  it  was  to  the  country  to  lose 
New  York  so  early  in  the  contest.  They  com 
pared  their  favorite  generals  and  discussed  the 
prospect  of  war  with  Mexico  that  was  beginning 
to  be  talked  about.  And  Mr.  Brown  said  he  had 
some  cousins  who  were  very  anxious  to  see  an  old 
soldier  of  the  Revolution.  Could  he  bring  them 
over? 

Then  Elsie  and  Florence  Hay  came.  Mrs. 
Brown  and  Mrs.  Pennypacker  asked  him  to  tea 
and  he  said  he  should  be  glad  to  accept. 

Mrs.  Dean  thought  they  had  better  have  their  tea 
in  the  dining-room,  but  Josie  said  let  them  spread 
the  cloth  on  the  coping  of  the  area,  and  bring  the 
chairs  and  benches  just  inside.  Charles  said  that 
would  be  a  sort  of  Roman  feast  and  the  guests 
would  make  believe  there  were  couches.  They 
put  down  papers  and  then  a  cloth,  and  Josie 
brought  out  her  dishes.  Grandmother  held  the 
Pennypacker  baby,  who  certainly  was  the  best  cat 
in  the  world  and  settled  himself  down,  white  dress 
and  all. 

Ben  asked  Charles  if  he  was  studying  Roman 
history,  and  found  he  was  reading  the  Orations  of 
Cicero  in  Latin,  and  knew  a  great  deal  about 
Greece  and  Rome.  He  had  read  most  of  Sir 


286    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Walter  Scott's  novels,  and  liked  "  Marmion"  "be 
yond  everything. 

"  What  was  he  going  to  do — enter  college?" 

"  Mother  wants  me  to.  Father  says  I  may  if  I 
like." 

He  colored  a  little,  but  did  not  say  his  mother 
had  set  her  heart  on  his  being  a  minister  because 
his  Uncle  Robert,  who  died,  had  intended  to  enter 
that  profession.  Ben  said  the  boys,  John  and  the 
doctor,  wanted  him  to  go,  but  he  wished  he  could 
be  a  newspaper  man  like  Nora's  father.  His 
mother  thought  it  a  kind  of  shiftless  business. 
They  talked  over  their  likes  and  dislikes  in  boy 
fashion,  and  Charles  enjoyed  it  immensely.  He 
thought  it  would  be  just  royal  to  have  a  big 
brother  who  was  a  doctor,  and  a  little  sister  like 
Hanny. 

Meanwhile  the  little  women  had  been  very 
much  engrossed  with  their  children  and  their  tea 
party,  and  the  prospect  of  a  grandmother  and  an 
old  soldier  coming  to  visit  them. 

"And  Mr.  Brown  is  so  heedless,"  said  Mrs. 
Brown.  "  He  ought  to  be  here  to  go  to  the  store, 
but  he's  off  talking  and  men  are  so  absent-minded. " 

Elsie  said  she'd  go  to  the  store,  which  was  the 
closet  in  the  basement. 

Then  the  company  came,  and  the  old  soldier 
limped  dreadfully.  Mrs.  Brown  scolded  her  hus 
band  a  little,  and  then  excused  him,  and  every- 


A  PLAY  IN  THE  BACK  YARD  287 

body  was  seated  in  a  row.  There  was  a  plate  of 
thin  bread-and-butter,  some  smoked  beef  cut  in 
small  pieces,  some  sugar  crackers,  quite  a  fad  of 
that  day,  and  a  real  cake.  Mrs.  Dean  had  given 
them  half  of  a  newly  baked  one. 

It  was  quite  a  tea.  Mr.  Dean  came  home  in 
the  midst  of  it  and  sympathized  warmly  with  the 
hero  of  1776,  and  was  extremely  courteous  to 
grandmother.  The  little  girls  cleared  away  the 
dishes,  put  their  children  to  bed,  had  a  fine  swing 
and  played  "Puss  in  the  Corner"  with  two 
sets. 

Mr.  Reed  came  in  for  Charles. 

"I  wish  you'd  come  over  and  see  my  boy,"  he 
said  to  Ben.  "  He's  a  rather  lonely  chap,  having 
no  brothers  or  sisters. " 

"Let  him  come  over  to  our  house,"  returned 
Ben  cordially.  "  We  have  a  good  supply." 

Then  everybody  dispersed.  They'd  had  such  a 
good  time,  and  were  eager  in  their  acknowledg 
ments. 

"Why,  I  quite  like  John  Robert  Charles,"  said 
Ben.  "  He's  a  real  smart  fellow." 

"  If  you  would  please  not  call  him  all  those 
names,"  entreated  Hanny.  "He  doesn't  like 
them." 

"Well,  I  should  say  not.  I'd  like  just  plain 
Bob.  He  wants  the  girlishness  shaken  out  of 
him." 


"  But  he's  so  nice.  And  if  he  should  come  over 
please  don't  let  Jim  plague  him." 

"Oh,  I'll  look  out" 

It  was  a  week  before  Ben  could  put  on  his  shoe, 
and  of  course  it  was  not  wisdom  for  him  to  go  to 
school.  He  went  downtown  in  the  wagon  and  did 
some  writing  and  accounts  for  Steve,  and  read  a 
great  deal.  Mr.  Reed  and  Charles  sauntered  over 
one  evening.  Hanny  was  sitting  out  on  the  stoop 
with  "father  and  the  boys,"  and  gave  Charles  a 
soft,  welcoming  smile.  Margaret  was  playing 
twilight  tunes  in  a  gentle  manner,  and  the  dulcet 
measures  fascinated  the  boy,  who  could  hardly 
pay  attention  to  what  Ben  was  saying. 

"  Do  you  want  to  go  in  and  hear  her?"  Hanny 
asked,  with  quick  insight  as  she  caught  his  divided 
attention. 

"Oh,  if  I  could!"  eagerly. 

"Yes."  Hanny  rose  and  held  out  her  hand, 
saying :  "  We  are  going  in  to  Margaret. " 

The  elder  sister  greeted  them  cordially.  After 
playing  a  little  she  asked  them  if  they  would  not 
like  to  sing. 

They  chose  "  Mary  to  the  Saviour's  Tomb"  first. 
It  was  a  great  favorite  in  those  days.  The  little 
girl  liked  it  because  she  could  play  and  sing  it  for 
her  father.  She  was  taking  music  lessons  of 
Margaret's  teacher  now,  and  practised  her  scales 
and  exercises  with  such  assiduity  that  she  had 


A  PLAY  IN  THE  BACK  YARD  289 

been  allowed  to  play  this  piece.  She  did  some 
times  pick  out  tunes,  but  it  was  after  the  real 
work  was  done. 

"Your  boy  has  a  fine  voice,"  said  John  to  Mr. 
Reed. 

The  father  was  not  quite  sure  singing  was 
manly.  He  had  roused  to  the  fact  that  Charles 
was  rather  "girly,"  and  he  wanted  him  like  other 
boys. 

"He  is  a  good  scholar,"  his  father  returned  in 
half  protest.  "  Stands  highest  in  his  class." 

"  Going  to  send  him  to  college?" 

"  I  don't  just  know,"  hesitatingly. 

"  Has  he  any  fancy  for  a  profession?  He'd 
make  an  attractive  minister." 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  have  much  of  a  fancy  for 
that." 

Mr.  Reed  knew  it  was  his  wife's  hope  and  am 
bition,  but  it  had  never  appealed  to  him. 

"The  boys  want  Ben  to  go  to  college,"  said 
John,  the  "boys"  standing  for  the  two  older 
brothers. 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  a  lawyer  nor  a  doctor,"  sub 
joined  Ben  decisively.  "And  I  shouldn't  be 
good  enough  for  a  minister.  There  ought  to  be 
some  other  professions." 

"Why,  there  are.  Professorships,  civil  engi 
neering,  and  so  on. 

While  the  men  discussed  future  chances,  the 
19 


290    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

children  were  singing,  and  their  sweet  young 
voices  moved  both  fathers  curiously.  Mr.  Reed 
decided  that  he  would  cultivate  his  neighbor,  even 
if  Charles  had  not  made  much  headway  with  Ben 
and  Jim. 


Cbapter  Sixteen. 

DAISY    JASPER. 

WHAT  to  do  with  Ben  was  the  next  question  of 
importance.  He  was  fond  of  books,  an  omnivo 
rous  reader,  in  fact,  a  very  fair  scholar,  and,  with 
a  certain  amount  of  push,  could  have  graduated 
the  year  before.  He  really  was  not  longing  for 
college. 

There  was  only  one  line  of  horse-cars,  and 
that  conveyed  the  passengers  of  the  Harlem 
Railroad  from  the  station  on  Broome  Street  to  the 
steam-cars  uptown.  Only  a  few  trains  beside  the 
baggage  and  freight  cars  were  allowed  through 
the  city.  Consequently  a  boy's  ambition  had  not 
been  roused  to  the  height  of  being  a  "  car  conduc 
tor"  at  that  period.  A  good  number  counted  on 
"  running  wid  de  machine"  when  they  reached  the 
proper  age,  but  boys  were  not  allowed  to  hang 
around  the  engine-houses.  Running  with  the 
machine  was  something  in  those  days.  There 
were  no  steam-engines.  Everything  was  drawn 
by  a  long  rope,  the  men  ranged  on  either  side. 
The  force  of  the  stream  of  water  was  also  pro 
pelled  by  main  strength,  and  the  "  high  throwing" 
291 


292    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

was  something  to  be  proud  of.  There  was  a  good 
deal  of  rivalry  among  the  companies  to  see  who 
could  get  to  a  fire  the  first.  Sometimes,  indeed,  it 
led  to  quite  serious  affrays  if  two  parties  met  at  a 
crossing.  "  Big  Six"  never  gave  up  for  any  one. 
"  Forty-one"  was  another  famous  engine  on  the 
East  side.  Indeed  they  had  a  rather  menacing 
song  they  sometimes  shouted  out  to  their  rivals, 
which  contained  these  two  blood-curdling  lines : 

"  From  his  heart  the  blood  shall  run 
By  the  balls  of  Forty-one. " 

Later  on  the  fights  and  disturbances  became  so 
bitter  that  the  police  had  to  interfere,  and  as  the 
city  grew  larger  some  new  method  of  expediting 
matters  had  to  be  considered.  But  the  "  fire 
laddies"  were  a  brave,  generous  set  of  men,  who 
turned  out  any  time  of  day  or  night  and  dragged 
their  heavy  engines  over  the  rough  cobble-stones 
with  a  spirit  and  enthusiasm  hard  to  match.  They 
received  no  pay,  but  were  exempt  from  jury  duty, 
and  after  a  number  of  years  of  service  had  certain 
privileges  granted  them.  Jim  counted  strongly 
on  being  a  fireman.  John  had  sometimes  gone  to 
fires  but  was  not  a  "regular." 

But  all  differences  were  forgotten  in  the  "  great 
fire, "  as  it  was  called  for  a  long  time.  There  had 
been  one  about  ten  years  before  that  had  devas 
tated  a  large  part  of  the  city.  And  in  February 


DAISY  JASPER  293 

of  this  year  there  had  been  quite  a  tragic  one  in 
the  Tribune  Building1.  There  was  a  fierce  drift 
ing  snowstorm,  so  deep  it  was  impossible  to  drag 
the  engines  through  it,  and  some  of  the  hydrants 
were  frozen.  Men  had  jumped  from  the  windows 
to  save  their  lives,  and  there  had  been  quite  a 
panic. 

Early  in  the  gray  dawn  of  July  nineteenth,  a 
watchman  discovered  flames  issuing  from  an  oil 
store  on  New  Street.  A  carpenter  shop  next  door 
was  soon  in  flames.  A  large  building  in  which 
quantities  of  saltpetre  was  stored  caught  next.  A 
dense  smoke  filled  the  air,  and  a  sudden  explosive 
sound  shot  out  a  long  tongue  of  flame  that  crossed 
the  street.  At  intervals  of  a  few  moments  others 
followed,  causing  everybody  to  fly  for  their  lives. 
And  at  last  one  grand  deafening  burst  like  a  tre 
mendous  clap  of  thunder,  and  the  whole  vicinity 
was  in  a  blaze.  Bricks  and  pieces  of  timber  flew 
through  the  air,  injuring  many  people.  Then  the 
fire  spread  far  and  wide,  one  vast,  roaring,  crack 
ling  sheet  of  flame.  One  brave  fireman  and  sev 
eral  other  people  were  killed,  and  Engine  22  was 
wrecked  in  the  explosion. 

It  was  said  at  first  that  powder  had  been  stored 
in  the  building,  but  it  was  proved  on  investiga 
tion  that  the  saltpetre  alone  was  the  dangerous 
agent.  Three  hundred  and  forty-five  buildings 
were  destroyed,  at  a  loss,  it  was  estimated,  of  ten 


•894    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

millions  of  dollars.  For  days  there  was  an  im 
mense  throng  about  the  place.  The  ruins  ex 
tended  from  Bowling  Green  to  Exchange  Place. 

A  relic  of  Revolutionary  times  perished  in  this 
fire.  The  bell  of  the  famous  Provost  prison,  that 
had  been  used  by  the  British  during  their  occu 
pancy  of  the  city,  had  been  removed  when  the 
building  was  remodelled  and  placed  on  the  Bride 
well  at  the  west  of  the  City  Hall,  and  used  for  a 
fire-alarm  bell.  When  the  Bridewell  had  been 
destroyed  it  was  transferred  to  the  cupola  of  the 
Naiad  Hose  Company  in  Beaver  Street.  It  rang 
out  its  last  alarm  that  morning,  for  engine  house 
and  bell  perished  in  the  flames. 

Stephen  had  been  very  fortunate  in  that  he  was 
out  of  the  fire  district.  He  took  Margaret  and 
Hanny  down  to  view  the  great  space  heaped  with 
blackened  debris,  and  when  a  fire  alarm  was  given 
the  little  girl  used  to  shiver  with  fright  for  months 
afterward. 

And  now  schools  were  considering  their  closing 
exercises,  and  parents  of  big  boys  were  puzzled  to 
know  just  where  to  start  them  in  life.  Ben  de 
clared  his  preference  at  last — he  wanted  to  be 
some  sort  of  a  newspaper  man. 

They  called  Mr.  Whitney  in  to  council.  He  was 
not  quite  sure  he  would  recommend  beginning 
there.  It  would  be  better  to  learn  the  trade 
thoroughly  at  such  a  place  as  the  Harpers'. 


DAISY  JASPER  295 

Then  there  would  always  be  something-  to  fall 
back  upon.  Steve  did  not  cordially  approve,  and 
Dr.  Joe  was  quite  disappointed.  He  was  ready 
to  help  Ben  through  college. 

Newspaper  people  did  not  rank  as  high  then 
as  now.  There  was  a  good  deal  of  what  came 
to  be  called  Bohemianism  among  them,  and  it 
was  not  of  the  artistic  type.  For  the  one  really 
good  position  there  were  a  dozen  precarious 
ones. 

Aunt  Nancy  Archer  rather  amused  them  with 
another  objection.  She  wasn't  at  all  sure  the 
publishing  of  so  many  novels  was  conducive  to 
the  advancement  of  morals  and  religion.  She 
never  could  quite  understand  how  so  good  a  man 
as  Brother  Harper  could  lend  it  countenance. 
When  she  was  young  the  girls  of  her  time  were 
reading  Hannah  More.  And  there  was  Mrs. 
Chapone's  letters,  and  now  Charlotte  Elizabeth 
and  Mrs.  Sigourney. 

"  Did  you  know  Hannah  More  wrote  a  novel?" 
inquired  John,  with  a  half  smile  of  his  father's 
humor.  "And  Mrs.  Barbauld  and  Mrs.  Edge- 
worth  and  Charlotte  Elizabeth's  stories  are  in  the 
novel  form." 

"  But  they  have  a  high  moral.  And  there  are 
so  many  histories  for  young  people  to  read.  They 
ought  to  have  the  real  truth  instead  of  silly  make« 
believes  and  trashy  love  stories. " 


296    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"  There  are  some  histories  that  would  be  rather 
terrible  reading  for  young  minds,"  said  John. 
"I  think  I'll  bring  you  two  or  three,  Aunt 
Nancy. " 

"  But  histories  are  true. " 

"  There  are  a  great  many  sad  and  bitter  truths 
in  the  world.  And  the  stories  must  have  a  certain 
amount  of  truth  in  them  or  they  would  never  gain 
a  hearing.  Do  we  not  find  some  of  the  most 
beautiful  stories  in  the  Bible  itself?" 

"  Well,  I  can't  help  thinking  all  this  novel  read 
ing  is  going  to  do  harm  to  our  young  people. 
Their  minds  will  get  flighty,  and  they  will  lose  all 
taste  and  desire  for  solid  things.  They  are  be 
ginning  to  despise  work  already. " 

"  Aunt  Nancy, "  said  Ben,  with  a  deprecating 
smile,  "  the  smartest  girl  I  know  lives  just  below 
here.  She  does  most  all  the  housekeeping,  she 
can  wash  and  iron  and  sweep  and  sew,  and  she 
reads  novels  by  the  score.  She  just  races  through 
them.  I  do  believe  she  knows  as  much  about 
Europe  as  any  of  our  teachers.  And  I  never 
dreamed  there  had  been  such  tremendous  con 
quests  in  Asia,  and  such  wonderful  things  in 
Egypt  until  I  heard  her  talk  about  them ;  and  she 
knows  about  the  great  men  and  generals  and 
rulers  who  lived  before  the  Christian  era,  and  at 
the  time  Christ  was  born " 

Aunt  Nancy  gasped. 


DAISY  JASPER  297 

"  Of  course  there  were  Old  Testament  times." 
she  returned  hesitatingly. 

"  And  I  am  not  sure  but  Mayor  Harper  is  doing 
a  good  work  in  disseminating  knowledge  of  all 
kinds.  I  believe  we  are  to  try  all  things  and  hold 
fast  to  that  which  is  good,"  said  John. 

He  brought  Aunt  Nancy  the  history  of  Peter 
the  Great  and  the  famous  Catharine  of  Russia, 
but  she  admitted  that  they  were  too  cruel  and  too 
terrible  for  any  one  to  take  pleasure  in. 

Mrs.  Underbill  and  Margaret  went  to  the  clos 
ing  exercises  of  Houston  Street  school.  Jim  as 
usual  had  a  splendid  oration,  one  of  Patrick 
Henry's.  Ben  acquitted  himself  finely.  There 
was  a  large  class  of  boys  who  had  finished  their 
course,  and  the  principal  made  them  an  admirable 
address,  in  which  there  was  much  good  counsel 
and  not  a  little  judicious  praise  as  well  as  bene 
ficial  advice  concerning  their  future. 

But  at  Mrs.  Craven's  there  was  something  more 
than  the  ordinary  exercises.  The  front  parlor 
was  turned  into  an  audience-room,  and  a  platform 
was  raised  a  little  in  the  back  parlor  almost  like  a 
stage.  There  was  a  dialogue  that  was  a  little  play 
in  itself,  and  displayed  the  knowledge  as  well  as 
the  training  of  the'  pupils.  Some  compositions 
were  read,  and  part  of  a  little  operetta  was  sung 
quite  charmingly  by  the  girls.  Then  there  was  a 
large  table  spread  out  with  specimens  of  needle- 


298    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

work  that  were  really  fine ;  drawing,  painting,  and 
penmanship  that  elicited  much  praise  from  the 
visitors. 

The  crowning  pleasure  was  the  little  party 
given  in  the  evening,  to  which  any  one  was  at 
liberty  to  invite  a  brother  or  cousin,  or  indeed  a 
neighbor  of  whom  their  mother  approved.  And 
strange  to  relate,  there  were  a  good  many  boys 
who  were  really  pleased  to  be  asked  to  the  "  girls' 
party."  Charles  Reed  came  and  had  a  delightful 
time.  Josie  had  waylaid  Mr.  Reed  again  and  told 
him  all  about  it,  and  hoped  he  would  let  Charles 
come,  and  he  said  he  would  be  very  happy  to. 
Mrs.  Reed  did  not  approve  of  parties  for  children, 
and  Charles  had  been  but  to  very  few. 

Mr.  Underhill  and  Dr.  Joe  went  down  to  the 
Harpers',  naving  decided  to  place  Ben  there  to 
learn  a  trade.  Thinking  it  all  over,  he  resolved 
to  acquiesce,  though  he  told  Hanny  privately  that 
some  day  he  meant  to  have  a  newspaper  of  his 
own  and  be  the  head  of  everything.  But  he  sup 
posed  he  would  have  to  learn  first. 

Margaret  and  Hanny  went  with  them,  and 
found  many  changes  since  their  first  visit.  The 
making  of  a  book  seemed  a  still  more  wonderful 
thing  to  the  child,  but  how  one  could  ever  be 
written  puzzled  her  beyond  all.  A  composition 
on  something  she  had  seen  or  read  was  within  the 
scope  of  her  thought,  but  to  tell  about  people  and 


DAISY  JASPER  299 

make  them  talk,  and  have  pleasant  and  curious 
and  sad  and  joyous  happenings,  did  puzzle  her 
greatly. 

Ben  was  not  to  go  until  the  first  of  September. 
So  he  would  help  Steve,  go  to  the  country  for  a 
visit,  and  have  a  good  time  generally  before  he 
began  his  life-work.  Stephen's  house  was  ap 
proaching  completion,  and  it  was  wonderful  to  see 
how  the  rows  of  buildings  were  stretching  out,  as 
if  presently  the  city  would  be  depleted  of  its  resi 
dents.  One  wondered  where  all  the  people  came 
from. 

John  Robert  Charles  had  grown  quite  confiden 
tial  with  his  father  and  began  to  think  him  as  nice 
as  Mr.  Underhill — not  as  funny,  for  Mr.  Under 
bill  had  a  way  of  joking  and  telling  amusing 
stories  and  teasing  a  little,  that  was  very  enter 
taining,  and  never  sharp  or  ill-natured. 

He  had  carried  off  the  honors  of  his  class  and 
was  proud  of  it.  Mr.  Reed  showed  his  satisfac 
tion  as  well.  Mrs.  Reed  was  rather  doubtful  and 
severe,  and  thought  it  her  duty  to  keep  Charles 
from  undue  vanity.  She  was  in  a  fret  because 
she  had  to  go  away  and  leave  the  house  and  waste 
a  whole  month. 

"  I  don't  want  to  go,"  said  Charles  to  his  father. 
"It's  awful  lonesome  up  there  in  the  mountains, 
and  there's  no  one  to  talk  to.  Aunt  Rhoda's  deaft 
and  Aunt  Persis  hushes  you  up  if  you  say  a  word. 


300    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

And  the  old  gardener  is  stupid.  There  are  no 
books  to  read,  and  I  do  get  so  tired. " 

"Well,  we'll  see,"  replied  his  father. 

To  his  wife  Mr.  Reed  said:  "Why  do  you  go 
off  if  you  don't  want  to?" 

"  I  won't  have  Charles  running  the  streets  and 
getting  into  bad  company,  and  wearing  out  his 
clothes  faster  than  I  can  mend  them,"  she  replied 
shortly. 

It  would  not  be  entertaining  for  Charles  in  his 
office,  and  he  didn't  just  see  what  the  boy  could 
do.  But  he  met  a  friend  who  kept  a  sort  of  fancy 
toy  store,  musical  instruments  and  some  curios, 
down  Broadway,  and  learned  that  they  were  very 
much  in  want  of  a  trusty,  reliable  lad  who  was 
correct  in  figures  and  well-mannered.  A  woman 
came  in  the  morning  to  sweep  the  store  and  side 
walk,  to  wash  up  the  floor  and  windows,  and  do 
the  chores.  So  there  was  no  rough  work. 

"I'll  send  my  boy  down  and  see  how  you  like 
him.  I  think  he  would  fancy  the  place,  and  dur 
ing  the  month  you  might  find  some  one  to  take  it 
permanently.  There  seems  to  be  no  lack  of 
boys." 

"  You  can't  always  find  the  right  sort,"  said  Mr. 
Gerard.  "Yes,  I  shall  be  glad  to  try  him." 

Mr.  Reed  did  not  set  forth  the  matter  too  at 
tractively  to  his  wife,  not  even  to  Charles,  who 
had  learned  to  restrain  his  enthusiasm  before  his 


DAISY  JASPER  301 

mother.  And  though  she  made  numerous  objec 
tions,  and  the  thought  of  bad  company  seemed  to 
haunt  her,  she  reluctantly  decided  to  let  him  try 
it  for  a  week.  He  would  go  down  in  the  morning 
with  his  father,  so  he  could  not  possibly  begin  his 
day  in  mischief. 

Charles  was  delighted.  The  city  was  not  over 
crowded  then.  The  Park  gave  "  downtown"  quite 
a  breathing  space. 

Now  a  boy  would  think  it  very  hard  not  to  have 
any  vacation  after  eleven  months  of  study.  He 
would  be  so  tired  and  worn  and  nervous  that  ten 
weeks  would  be  none  too  much.  The  children 
then  studied  hard  and  played  hard  and  were  eager 
to  have  a  good  time,  and  generally  did  have  it. 
And  now  Charles  was  delighted  with  the  newness 
of  the  affair.  He  walked  up  at  night  fresh  and 
full  of  interest,  and  was  quite  a  hero  to  the  girls 
over  on  Mrs.  Dean's  stoop. 

"  I  hope  you  will  bring  them  down  even  if  you 
shouldn't  want  to  buy  anything.  Mr.  Gerard  said 
the  stock  was  low  now,  as  it  is  the  dullest  season 
of  the  year.  But  there  are  such  beautiful  articles 
for  gifts,  china  cups  and  saucers  and  dainty 
pitchers  and  vases,  and  sets  like  yours,  Josie, 
some  ever  so  much  smaller,  and  a  silver  knife  and 
fork  and  spoon  in  a  velvet  case,  and  lovely  little 
fruit-knives  and  nut-picks  and  ever  so  many 
things  I  have  never  heard  of.  And  musical  in- 


302    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

struments,  flutes  and  flageolets  and  violins,  and 
oh,  the  accordeons!  There  are  German  and 
French.  Oh,  I  wish  I  could  own  one.  I  know  I 
could  soon  learn  to  play  on  it!"  declared  Charles 
eagerly. 

In  that  far-back  time  an  accordeon  really  was 
considered  worth  one's  while.  A  piano  was  quite 
an  extravagance.  A  good  player  could  evoke  real 
music  out  of  it,  and  at  that  period  it  had  not  been 
handed  over  to  the  saloons.  In  fact,  saloons  were 
not  in  fashion. 

The  children  listened  enchanted.  It  was  a 
great  thing  to  know  any  one  in  such  a  store. 
Mrs.  Dean  promised  to  take  them  all  down. 

Hanny  had  a  new  source  of  interest.  Dr.  Joe 
had  told  her  a  very  moving  story  when  he  was  up 
to  tea  on  Sunday  evening,  about  a  little  girl  who 
had  been  two  months  in  the  hospital  and  who  had 
just  come  home  for  good  now,  who  lived  only  a 
little  way  below  them.  It  was  Daisy  Jasper, 
whom  they  had  seen  a  little  while  last  summer  in 
a  wheeling  chair,  and  who  had  disappeared  before 
any  one's  curiosity  could  be  satisfied.  She  was  an 
only  child,  and  her  parents  were  very  comfortably 
well  off.  When  Daisy  was  about  six  years  old,  a 
fine,  healthy,  and  beautiful  little  girl,  she  had 
trodden  on  a  spool  dropped  by  a  careless  hand  and 
fallen  down  a  long  flight  of  stairs.  Beside  a 
broken  arm  and  some  bruises  she  did  not  seem 


DAISY  JASPER  303 

seriously  injured.  But  after  a  while  she  began  to 
complain  of  her  back  and  her  hip,  and  presently 
the  sad  knowledge  dawned  upon  them  that  their 
lovely  child  was  likely  to  be  a  cripple.  Various 
experiments  were  tried  until  she  became  so  deli 
cate  her  life  appeared  endangered.  Mr.  Jasper 
had  been  attracted  to  this  pretty  row  of  houses 
standing  back  from  the  street  with  the  flower 
gardens  in  front.  It  seemed  secluded  yet  not 
lonely.  She  grew  so  feeble,  however,  that  the 
doctors  had  recommended  Sulphur  Springs  in 
Virginia,  and  thither  they  had  taken  her.  When 
the  cool  weather  came  on  they  had  gone  farther 
south  and  spent  the  winter  in  Florida.  She  had 
improved  and  gained  sufficient  strength,  the 
doctors  thought,  to  endure  an  operation.  It  had 
been  painful  and  tedious,  but  she  had  borne  it  all 
so  patiently.  Dr.  Mott  and  Dr.  Francis  had  done 
their  best,  but  she  would  always  be  a  little  de 
formed.  The  prospect  was  that  some  day  she 
might  walk  without  a  crutch.  Joe  had  seen  a 
good  deal  of  her,  and  at  one  visit  he  had  told  her 
of  his  little  sister  who  was  just  her  age,  as  their 
birthdays  were  in  May. 

Hanny  had  cried  over  the  sorrowful  tale.  She 
thought  of  her  early  story  heroine,  "  Little  Blind 
Lucy,"  whose  sight  had  been  so  marvellously 
restored.  But  Daisy  could  never  be  quite  restored 
to  straightness. 


304    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

After  supper  Joe  had  taken  her  down  to  call  on 
Daisy.  Oh,  how  pretty  the  gardens  were,  a  beau 
tiful  spot  of  greenery  and  bloom,  such  a  change 
from  the  pavements !  A  narrow  brick  walk  ran 
up  to  the  house,  edged  with  rows  of  dahlias  just 
coming  into  bloom.  On  the  other  side  there 
were  circles  and  triangles  and  diamond-shaped 
beds  with  borders  of  small  flowers,  or  an  entire 
bed  of  heliotrope  or  verbena.  The  very  air  was 
fragrant.  Up  near  the  house  was  a  kind  of 
pavilion  with  a  tent  covering  to  shield  one  from 
the  sun. 

Daisy,  with  her  mother  and  aunt,  were  sitting 
out  here  when  Dr.  Joe  brought  his  little  sister. 
Daisy's  chair  was  so  arranged  that  the  back  could 
be  adjusted  to  any  angle.  It  was  of  bamboo  and 
cane  with  a  soft  blanket  thrown  over  it,  a  pretty 
rose  color  that  lighted  up  the  pale  little  girl  whose 
languor  was  still  perceptible. 

After  a  little  Mrs.  Jasper  took  Dr.  Joe  into  the 
house,  as  she  wanted  to  question  him.  Then 
Hanny  and  Daisy  grew  more  confidential.  Daisy 
asked  about  the  children  in  the  neighborhood  and 
thought  she  would  like  to  see  Nora  and  Pussy 
Gray.  She  was  very  fond  of  cats,  but  theirs,  a 
very  good  mouser,  was  bad-tempered  and  wanted 
no  petting.  And  then  the  Dean  girls  and  Flossy 
and  Elsie  Hay,  and  last  but  not  least  of  all, 
Charles  Reed  with  his  beautiful  voice. 


DAISY  JASPER  305 

"I  do  so  dearly  love  music,"  said  Daisy  long 
ingly.  "Auntie  plays  but  she  doesn't  sing. 
Mamma  knows  a  good  many  old-fashioned  songs 
that  are  lovely.  When  I  am  tired  and  nervous 
she  sings  to  me.  I  don't  suppose  I  can  ever  learn 
to  play  for  myself,"  she  ended  sadly. 

Hanny  told  her  she  was  learning  and  could  play 
"Mary  to  the  Saviour's  Tomb"  for  her  father. 
And  there  were  the  boys  and  Stephen  and  her 
lovely  married  sister  Dolly  and  her  own  sister 
Margaret. 

"Oh,  how  happy  you  must  be!"  cried  Daisy. 
"  I  should  like  such  a  lot  of  people.  I  never  had 
any  brothers  or  sisters,  and  I  do  get  so  lonesome. 
And  the  doctor  is  so  pleasant  and  sweet ;  you  must 
love  him  a  great  deal." 

"  I  can't  tell  which  one  is  best.  Steve  teases 
and  says  funny  things,  and  is — oh,  just  as  nice  as 
any  one  can  be!  And  John  is  splendid,  too. 
And  Ben  is  going  to  learn  to  make  books,  and  I 
can  have  all  the  books  I  want." 

Daisy  sighed.  She  was  very  fond  of  reading, 
but  it  soon  tired  her. 

"  I  should  so  like  to  see  you  all.  You  know  I've 
never  been  much  with  children.  And  I  like  live 
people.  I  want  to  hear  them  talk  and  sing  and 
see  them  play.  One  gets  tired  of  dolls." 

"  If  you  would  like  I  will  bring  Nora  and  Pussy 
Gray.  And  I  know  Josie's  mother  will  let  them 
20 


306    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

come.  If  you  could  be  wheeled  up  on  our  side 
walk" 

"Oh,  that  would  be  delightful!"  and  the  soft 
eyes  glowed. 

Hanny  had  taken  Nora  the  very  next  afternoon, 
and  Pussy  Gray  had  been  just  too  good  for  any 
thing.  Daisy  had  to  laugh  at  the  conversations 
between  him  and  Nora.  It  really  did  sound  as  if 
he  said  actual  words.  And  they  told  Daisy  about 
the  time  they  went  to  the  Museum  and  had  a 
double  share  for  their  money.  Daisy  laughed 
heartily,  and  her  pale  cheeks  took  on  a  pretty  pink 
tint. 

"You  are  so  good  to  come,"  said  Mrs.  Jasper. 
"  My  little  girl  has  had  so  much  suffering  in  her 
short  life  that  I  want  her  to  have  all  the  pleasure 
possible  now." 

Josie  and  Tudie  Dean  had  been  out  spending 
the  day,  and  really,  there  was  so  much  to  tell  that 
it  was  nine  o'clock  before  it  was  all  discussed. 
Charles  was  very  much  interested  in  Daisy 
Jasper. 

"  You  know  I  can  tell  just  how  she  feels  about 
not  having  any  brothers  and  sisters,"  he  ex 
claimed.  "  I've  wished  for  them  so  many  times. 
And  I  do  think  Hanny  is  the  luckiest  of  the  lot ; 
she  has  so  many.  It  is  like  a  little  town  to  your 
self." 

"I'm  so  glad  it  is  vacation,"   declared  Josie. 


DAISY  JASPER  307 

"If  we  were  going  to  school  we  wouldn't  have 
half  time  for  anything/' 

Mr.  Underbill  came  for  his  little  girl.  While 
he  was  exchanging  a  few  words  with  Mr.  Dean 
Hanny  caught  one  hand  in  both  of  hers  and  hopped 
around  on  one  foot.  She  was  so  glad  she  could 
do  it.  Poor  Daisy,  with  her  beautiful  name,  who 
could  never  know  the  delight  of  exuberant 
spirits. 

Hanny 's  thoughts  did  not  take  in  the  long  word, 
but  that  was  what  she  felt  in  every  fibre  of  her 
being. 

Charles  wondered  how  she  dared.  He  was 
frightened  when  he  caught  his  father's  hand  with 
an  impulse  of  gratitude.  But  in  pure  fun ! 

There  was  quite  a  stir  with  the  little  clique  in 
the  upper  end  of  the  block.  Mrs.  Underbill,  Mrs. 
Dean,  and  Margaret  called  on  their  neighbor,  and 
the  wheeled  chair  came  up  the  street  a  day  or  two 
after.  It  had  to  go  to  the  corner  and  cross  on  the 
flagging,  as  the  jar  would  have  been  too  great  on 
cobble  stones.  They  had  a  young  colored  lad  now 
who  kept  the  garden  in  order,  did  chores,  and 
waited  upon  "  Missy"  as  he  called  her. 

The  sidewalk  was  generally  sunny  in  the  after 
noon,  but  this  day  it  was  soft  and  gray  without 
being  very  cloudy.  The  chariot  halted  at  the 
Underbills '.  The  little  girls  brought  their  dolls 
to  show  Daisy,  their  very  best  ones,  and  Nora 


308    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

dressed  up  Pussy  Gray  in  the  long  white  baby 
dress,  and  pussy  was  very  obliging  and  lay  in 
Daisy's  arms  just  like  a  real  baby.  The  child  felt 
as  if  she  wanted  to  kiss  him. 

What  a  pretty  group  of  gossips  they  were !  If 
Kate  Greenaway  had  been  making  pictures  then, 
she  would  have  wanted  them,  though  their  attire 
was  not  quite  as  quaint  as  hers.  They  went  up 
and  down  the  steps,  they  told  Daisy  so  many 
bright,  entertaining  things,  and  the  fun  they  had 
with  their  plays.  Josie's  party  was  described,  the 
closing  exercises  at  school,  and  the  many  incidents 
so  important  in  child  life.  Sometimes  two  or 
three  talked  together,  or  some  one  said,  "  It's  my 
turn,  now  let  me."  They  referred  to  Charles  so 
much  it  really  piqued  Daisy's  curiosity. 

"Jim  calls  him  a  'girl-boy,'  because  he  plays 
with  us,"  said  Hanny,  "and  in  some  ways  I  like 
girl- boys  best.  Ben  is  a  sort  of  girl-boy.  I'm 
going  to  bring  him  over  to  see  you.  Jim's  real 
splendid  and  none  of  the  boys  dare  fight  him  any 
more,"  she  added  loyally. 

"And  first,  you  know,"  began  Tudie  in  a  mys 
teriously  confidential  manner,  "we  thought  it  so 
queer  and  funny.  His  mother  called  him  John 
Robert  Charles.  And  she  used  to  look  out  of  the 
window  and  ask  him  if  he  had  his  books  and  his 
handkerchief,  and  tell  him  to  come  straight  home 
from  school,  arid  lots  of  things.  Oh,  we  thought 


DAISY  JASPER  309 

we  wouldn't  have  her  for  our  mother,  not  for  a 
world!" 

"  How  did  he  come  by  so  many  names?"  Daisy 
smiled. 

"Well,  grandfather  and  all,"  replied  Tudie 
rather  ambiguously.  His  father  calls  him  Charles. 
It  sounds  quite  grand,  doesn't  it?  We  all  wanted 
to  call  him  Robert.  And  Hanny's  big  sister  sings 
such  a  lovely  song — "Robin  Adair."  I'd  like  to 
call  him  that." 

"  I  should  so  like  to  hear  him  sing.  I'm  so  fond 
of  singing,"  said  Daisy  plaintively. 

"  Now  if  we  were  in  the  back  yard  we  could  all 
sing,"  rejoined  Josie.  "  But  of  course  we  couldn't 
in  the  street  with  everybody  going  by. " 

"  Oh,  no!"  Yet  there  was  a  wistful  longing  in 
Daisy's  face,  that  was  beginning  to  look  very 
tired. 

There  were  not  many  people  going  through  this 
street.  Houston  Street  was  quite  a  thorough 
fare.  But  the  few  who  did  pass  looked  at  the 
merry  group  of  girls  and  at  the  pale  invalid  whose 
chair  told  the  story,  and  gave  them  all  a  tender, 
sympathetic  thought. 

All  except  Lily  Ludlow.  She  was  rather 
curious  about  the  girl  in  the  chair  and  made  an 
errand  out  to  the  Bowery.  When  Hanny  saw 
who  was  coming  she  turned  around  and  talked  very 
eagerly  to  Elsie  Hay,  and  pretended  not  to  know 


3io    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

it.  Lily  had  her  President,  and  Jim  admired  her, 
that  was  enough. 

"  You're  very  tired,  Missy,"  Sam  said  presently. 

"Yes,"  replied  Daisy.  "I  think  I'll  go  home 
now.  And  will  you  all  come  to  see  me  to-morrow? 
Oh,  it  is  so  nice  to  know  you  all!  And  Pussy 
Gray  is  just  angelic.  Please  bring  him,  too. " 

They  said  good-by.  For  some  moments  the 
little  girls  looked  at  each  other  with  wordless 
sorrow  in  their  eyes.  I  think  there  were  tears  as 
well. 


Cbapter  Seventeen. 

SOME    OF    THE    OLD    LANDMARKS. 

"YES,  all  of  us,"  said  Ben.  "We  can  tuck  in 
the  Deans.  I  only  wish  Charles  could  go.  Well, 
the  house  won't  run  away.  And  Mr.  Audubon 
has  travelled  all  over  the  world.  Mr.  Whitney 
wrote  an  article  about  him.  That's  the  work  I'd 
like  to  do — go  and  see  famous  people  and  write 
about  them." 

Interviewing  was  not  such  a  fine  art  in  those 
days.  Ben  had  enough  of  it  later  on. 

Dr.  Joe  had  asked  Mr.  Audubon 's  permission 
to  bring  a  crowd  of  children  to  see  him  and  his 
birds.  He  was  getting  to  be  quite  an  attraction 
in  the  city. 

When  they  packed  up  they  found  a  crowd  sure 
enough.  But  Dr.  Hoffman  took  Margaret  and 
the  little  girl  with  him,  as  Charles  had  been 
allowed  a  half  day  off  for  the  trip.  The  drive 
was  so  full  of  interest.  They  went  up  past  the  old 
Stuyvesant  place  and  took  a  look  at  the  pear-tree 
that  had  been  planted  almost  two  hundred  years 
ago  and  was  still  bearing  fruit.  Then  they  turned 
into  the  old  Bloomingdale  Road,  and  up  by 
311 


3i2    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Seventy-fifth  Street  they  all  stopped  to  see  the 
house  where  Louis  Philippe  taught  school  when 
he  was  an  emigrant  in  America.  And  now  he 
was  on  the  throne,  King  of  the  French  people,  a 
grander  and  greater  position,  some  thought,  than 
being  President  of  the  United  States. 

"For  of  course,"  said  Jim,  "he  can  stay  there 
all  his  life,  and  the  President  has  only  four  years 
in  the  White  House.  After  all,  it  is  a  big  thing  to 
be  a  king." 

And  in  a  little  more  than  two  years  he  was  fly 
ing  over  to  England  for  refuge  and  safety,  and 
was  no  longer  a  king.  Mr.  Polk  was  still  in  the 
White  House. 

It  was  an  odd,  low,  two-story  frame  house 
where  royalty  had  been  thankful  to  teach  such 
boys  as  Ben  and  Jim  and  Charles.  There  was  a 
steep,  sloping  roof  with  wide  eaves,  a  rather 
narrow  doorway  in  the  middle  of  the  front,  carved 
with  very  elaborate  work,  and  an  old  knocker 
with  a  lion's  head,  small  but  fierce.  The  large 
room  on  one  side  had  been  the  schoolroom,  and 
the  board  floor  was  worn  in  two  curious  rows 
where  the  boys  had  shuffled  their  feet.  The  fire 
place  was  what  most  people  came  to  see.  It  was 
spacious  and  had  a  row  of  blue  and  white  Ant 
werp  tiles  with  pictures  taken  from  the  New 
Testament.  They  were  smoked  and  faded  now, 
but  they  still  told  their  story.  The  mantelpiece 


SOME  OF  THE  OLD  LANDMARKS   313 

and  the  doors  were  a  mass  of  the  most  elaborate 
carving. 

There  were  still  some  old  houses  standing  in 
New  York  that  had  been  built  with  bricks  brought 
from  Holland.  Charles  was  very  much  interested 
in  these  curiosities  and  had  found  one  of  the  houses 
down  in  Pearl  Street. 

Then  they  drove  up  through  McGowan's  Pass, 
where  Washington  had  planned  to  make  a  decisive 
stand  at  the  battle  of  Harlem  Heights.  There 
was  the  ledge  of  rock  and  the  pretty  lake  that  was 
to  be  Central  Park  some  day.  It  was  all  wildness 
now. 

There  was  so  much  to  see  that  Dr.  Joe  declared 
they  had  no  more  time  to  spend  following  Wash 
ington's  retreat. 

"  But  it  was  just  grand  that  he  should  come 
back  here  to  be  inaugurated  the  first  President  of 
the  United  States,"  said  Charles.  "I  am  proud 
of  having  had  that  in  New  York. " 

"The  city  has  a  great  many  famous  points," 
said  Dr.  Joe ;  "  but  we  seem  to  have  lost  our  en 
thusiasm  over  them.  Beyond  there,"  nodding  his 
head  over  east,  "is  the  Murray  House  that  can 
tell  its  story.  Handsome  Mrs.  Murray,  and  she 
was  a  Quaker,  too,  made  herself  so  charming  in 
her  hospitality  to  the  British  generals  that  she  de 
tained  them  long  enough  for  Silliman's  brigade 
to  retreat  to  Harlem.  Washington  was  awaiting 


3i4    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

them  at  the  Apthorpe  House,  and  they  had  left 
that  place  not  more  than  fifteen  minutes  when  the 
British  came  flying  in  the  hot  haste  of  pursuit. 
So  but  for  Mrs.  Murray's  smiles  and  friendliness 
they  might  have  captured  our  Washington  as 
well  as  the  city." 

"That  was  splendid,"  declared  Charles  enthu 
siastically. 

"And  maybe  as  a  boy  Lindley  Murray  might 
have  thought  up  his  grammar  that  he  was  to 
write  later  on  to  puzzle  your  brains,"  continued 
Dr.  Joe. 

"Well,  that  is  odd,  too.  I'll  forgive  him  his 
grammar,"  said  Ben,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"  And  if  we  don't  go  on  we  will  have  no  time 
for  Professor  Audubon  and  the  birds.  But  we 
could  ramble  about  all  day." 

"  I  didn't  know  there  were  so  many  interesting 
things  in  the  city.  They  seem  somehow  a  good 
ways  off  when  you  are  studying  them,"  replied 
Charles. 

He  really  wished  Hanny  was  in  the  carriage. 
She  was  so  eager  about  all  these  old  stories. 

Then  they  went  over  to  Tenth  Avenue.  There 
was  the  old  Colonial  house,  with  its  broad  porch 
and  wide  flight  of  steps.  It  was  country  then 
with  its  garden  and  fields,  its  spreading  trees  and 
grassy  slopes. 

And  there  was  Professor  Audubon  on  the  lawn 


SOME  OF  THE  OLD  LANDMARKS       315 

with  his  wife  and  two  little  grandchildren.  He 
came  and  welcomed  the  party  cordially.  He  had 
met  both  doctors  before.  He  was  tall,  with  a  fine 
fair  face  and  long  curling  hair  thrown  back,  now 
snowy  white.  Once  with  regard  to  the  wishes  of 
some  friends  while  abroad  he  had  yielded  and  had 
it  cut  "  fashionable,"  to  his  great  regret  afterward, 
and  the  reminiscence  was  rather  amusing.  His 
wide  white  collar,  open  at  the  throat,  added  to 
his  picturesque  aspect.  Then  he  had  a  slight 
French  accent  that  seemed  to  render  his  hospitality 
all  the  more  charming. 

Ben  and  Charles  knew  that  he  had  been  nearly 
all  over  the  Continent,  and  had  hardships  innum 
erable  and  discouragements  many,  and  had  in 
spite  of  them  succeeded  in  writing  and  illustrating 
one  of  the  most  magnificent  of  books.  And  when 
they  trooped  into  the  house  and  saw  the  stuffed 
birds  and  animals,  the  pictures  he  had  painted, 
and  the  immense  folio  volumes  so  rich  with  draw 
ings,  it  hardly  seemed  possible  that  one  brain 
could  have  wrought  it  all. 

Everything,  from  the  most  exquisite  humming 
bird  to  an  eagle  and  a  wild  turkey.  There  was 
no  museum  of  natural  history  then.  Mr.  Bar- 
num's  collection  was  considered  quite  a  wonder. 
But  to  hear  this  soft-voiced  man  with  his  charm 
ing  simplicity  describe  them,  was  fascination  it 
self. 


316    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

The  little  girl  really  wavered  in  her  admiration 
for  Mayor  Harper.  He  had  been  her  hero  par 
excellence  up  to  this  time.  A  man  who  could 
govern  a  city  and  make  books  had  seemed  won 
derful,  but  here  was  a  man  who  could  keep  the 
birds  quite  as  if  they  were  alive.  You  almost  ex 
pected  them  to  sing. 

He  was  very  fond  of  children  and  Mrs.  Audubon 
was  hardly  less  delightful.  They  could  not  see 
half  the  treasures  in  such  a  brief  while,  and  they 
were  glad  to  be  invited  to  come  again.  Ben  did 
find  his  way  up  there  frequently,  and  Charles 
gleaned  many  an  entertaining  bit  of  knowledge. 
When  the  little  girl  went  again,  the  tender,  eager 
eyes  had  lost  their  sight,  and  the  enthusiasm 
turned  to  a  pathos  that  was  sorrow  itself.  But 
there  was  no  hint  of  it  this  happy  day,  which  re 
mained  one  of  their  most  delightful  memories. 

Now  that  they  were  so  near,  Margaret  said  they 
must  go  and  see  Miss  Lois.  Dr.  Joe  was  quite  a 
regular  visitor,  for  Miss  Lois  was  growing  more 
frail  every  week.  Josie  and  Tudie  thought  they 
would  like  to  see  another  old  house,  and  a  harp 
"taller  than  yourself."  Charles  was  much  inter 
ested.  Jim  had  his  mind  so  full  of  birds  and 
hunting  adventures  he  could  think  of  nothing 
else,  and  said  he  would  rather  walk  around. 

Miss  Lois  was  quite  feeble  to-day,  and  said 
Margaret  must  be  the  hostess.  They  went  into 


SOME  OF  THE  OLD  LANDMARKS       317 

the  old  parlor  and  examined  the  quaint  articles 
and  some  of  the  old-fashioned  books.  Josie 
wished  they  might  try  the  harp  and  see  how  it 
would  sound,  but  no  one  would  propose  it  if  Miss 
Lois  was  so  poorly. 

"It's  very  queer,"  said  Hanny.  "She  played 
for  me  once.  The  strings  are  rusted  and  broken, 
and  it  sounds  just  like  the  ghost  of  something, 
as  if  you  were  going  way,  way  back.  I  didn't 
like  it." 

The  German  woman  was  out  in  the  kitchen  and 
gave  them  each  a  piece  of  cake.  There  was  a 
quaint  old  dresser  with  some  pewter  plates  and  a 
pitcher,  and  old  china,  and  a  great  high  mantel. 

"You  seem  way  out  in  the  country,"  said 
Charles.  "  But  it's  pretty,  too.  And  the  trees 
and  the  river  and  Fort  Washington.  Why,  it's 
been  like  an  excursion.  I  am  so  glad  you  asked 
me  to  come." 

Margaret  entered  the  room.  "  She  wants  to 
see  you,  Hanny,"  she  said  quietly.  "And  when 
she  is  stronger  she  would  like  the  little  girls  to 
come  again." 

Hanny  went  into  the  chamber.  Miss  Lois  was 
sitting  up  in  the  big  rocker,  but  her  face  was  as 
white  as  the  pillow  back  of  her  head.  And  oh, 
how  thin  her  hands  were !  strangely  cold,  too,  for 
a  summer  day. 

"  I'm  very  glad  you  came  again,  little  Hanny,' 


318    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

she  said.  "  I  had  been  thinking  of  you  and  Mar 
garet  all  day,  and  how  good  it  was  of  your  father 
and  you  to  hunt  me  up  as  you  did.  You've  given 
me  a  deal  of  happiness.  Tell  him  I  am  thankful 
for  all  his  kindness.  Will  you  kiss  me  good-by, 
dear?  I  hope  you'll  be  spared  to  be  a  great  com 
fort  to  every  one." 

Hanny  kissed  her.  The  lips  were  almost  as 
cold  as  the  hands.  And  then  she  went  out  softly 
with  a  strange  feeling  she  did  not  understand. 

It  was  late  enough  then  to  go  straight  home. 
Dr.  Joe  had  a  little  talk  with  his  mother,  and  the 
next  day  he  took  her  up  to  Harlem.  The  children 
went  over  to  Daisy's  in  the  afternoon  and  told  her 
about  "everything."  Mrs.  Jasper  insisted  upon 
keeping  them  to  supper. 

Her  mother  had  not  returned  when  the  little 
girl  went  to  bed.  It  seemed  so  strange  the  next 
morning  without  her.  Margaret  was  very  quiet 
and  grave,  so  the  little  girl  practised  and  sewed, 
and  then  read  a  while.  In  the  afternoon  her 
mother  came,  home  and  said  Miss  Lois  had  gone 
to  be  with  her  sister  and  her  long-lost  friends  in 
the  other  country. 

A  feeling  of  awe  came  over  her.  No  one  very 
near  to  her  had  died,  and  though  she  had  not 
seen  so  very  much  of  Miss  Lois,  for  her  mother 
had  gone  up  quite  often  without  her,  the  fact  that 
she  had  been  there  so  lately,  had  held  her  poor 


SOME  OF  THE  OLD  LANDMARKS       319 

nerveless  hand,  had  kissed  her  good-by  in  an  al 
most  sacred  manner  when  she  was  so  near  death, 
touched  her.  Did  she  know?  Hanny  wondered. 
What  was  death?  The  breath  went  out  of  your 
body — and  her  old  thoughts  about  the  soul  came 
back  to  her.  It  was  so  different  when  the  world 
was  coming  to  an  end.  Then  you  were  to  be 
caught  up  into  heaven  and  not  be  put  into  the 
ground.  She  shrank  from  the  horrible  thought 
of  being  buried  there,  of  being  so  covered  that 
you  never  could  get  out.  She  decided  that  she 
would  not  so  much  mind  if  the  world  did  come 
to  an  end. 

"  Margaret,"  she  said,  "was  it  dreadful  for  Miss 
Lois  to  die?" 

"  No,  dear,"  returned  her  sister  gently.  "  If  we 
were  all  in  another  country,  the  beautiful  heaven, 
and  you  were  here  all  alone,  would  you  not  like 
to  come  to  us?  That  was  the  way  Miss  Lois  felt. 
It  is  so  much  better  than  living  on  here  alone. 
And  then  when  one  gets  old— no,  dear,  it  was  a 
pleasant  journey  to  her.  She  had  thought  a  great 
deal  about  it,  and  had  loved  and  served  God. 
This  is  what  we  all  must  do. " 

"  Margaret,  what  must  I  do  to  serve  Him?" 

"  I  think  trying  to  make  people  happier  is  one 
service.  Being  helpful  and  obedient,  and  taking 
up  the  little  trials  cheerfully,  when  we  have  to  do 
the  things  we  don't  quite  like." 


320    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  something  hard  that 
I  do  not  like  to  do." 

"  Suppose  I  said  I  would  not  go  out  and  play 
with  the  girls  this  afternoon." 

"I'd  rather  not  of  myself,"  said  Hanny.  "I 
feel  like  being  still  and  thinking. " 

Margaret  smiled  down  in  the  sweet,  serious 
face.  There  was  no  trial  she  could  impose. 

"  Then  think  of  the  beautiful  land  where  Miss 
Lois  has  gone,  where  no  one  will  be  sick  or  tired 
or  lonely,  where  the  flowers  are  always  blooming 
and  there  is  no  winter,  where  all  is  peace  and 
love." 

"But  I  don't  understand — how  you  get  to 
heaven,"  said  the  puzzled  child. 

"  No  one  knows  until  the  time  comes.  Then 
God  shows  us  the  way,  and  because  He  is  there 
we  do  not  have  any  terror.  We  just  go  to 
Him.  It  is  a  great  mystery.  No  one  can  quite 
explain  it. " 

Elsie  Hay  came  for  her,  but  she  said  she  was 
not  going  out,  that  she  did  not  feel  like  playing. 
She  brought  her  sewing,  and  in  her  mind  wan 
dered  about  heaven,  seeing  Miss  Lois  in  her  new 
body. 

They  did  not  take  her  to  the  funeral.  She  went 
over  to  Daisy  Jasper's  and  read  to  her,  wondering 
a  little  if  Daisy  would  be  glad  to  go  where  she 
would  be  well  and  strong  and  have  no  more  pain. 


SOME  OF  THE  OLD  LANDMARKS       321 

But  then  she  would  have  to  leave  her  father  and 
mother  who  loved  her  so  very  much. 

Miss  Lois  had  left  some  keepsakes  to  Margaret. 
Two  beautiful  old  brocaded  silk  gowns  that  looked 
like  pictures,  some  fine  laces,  and  a  pretty  painted 
fan  that  had  been  done  expressly  for  her  when  she 
was  young.  A  white  embroidered  lawn  for 
Hanny,  a  pearl  ring  and  six  silver  spoons,  besides 
some  curious  old  books.  Mrs.  Underhill  was  to 
take  whatever  she  liked,  and  dispose  of  the  rest. 
The  good  German  neighbor  was  to  have  the  house 
and  lot  for  the  care  she  had  taken  of  both  ladies. 
Mr.  Underhill  had  arranged  this  some  time  be 
fore,  so  there  would  be  no  trouble. 

Everything  in  the  house  was  old  and  well  worn. 
There  was  a  little  china  of  value,  and  the  rest  was 
turned  over  to  the  kindly  neighbor. 

Margaret  and  Hanny  went  up  to  visit  grand 
mother,  both  grandmothers,  indeed.  The  old 
Van  Kortlandt  house  was  a  curiosity  in  its  way, 
and  though  Hanny  had  seen  it  before  she  was  not 
old  enough  to  appreciate  it.  The  satin  brocade 
furniture  was  faded,  the  great  gilt-framed  mirrors 
tarnished,  and  all  the  bedsteads  had  high  posts 
and  hanging  curtains,  and  a  valance  round  the 
lower  part.  Aunt  Katrina  was  there  and  a  cousin 
Rhynders,  a  small,  withered-up  old  man  who 
played  beautifully  on  a  jewsharp,  and  who  sang, 
in  a  rather  tremulous  but  still  sweet  voice,  songs 

21 


322    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

that  seemed  quite  fascinating  to  Hanny,  pathetic 
old  ballads  such  as  one  finds  in  "  The  Ballad  Book" 
of  a  hundred  years  ago.  There  was  an  old  woman 
in  the  kitchen  who  scolded  the  two  farmhands, 
continually ;  a  beautiful  big  dog  and  a  cross  mas 
tiff  who  was  kept  chained,  as  well  as  numerous 
cats,  but  Grandmother  Van  Kortlandt  despised 
cats. 

It  was  delightful  to  get  home  again,  though  now 
Elsie  and  Florence  had  gone  to  see  their  grand, 
mother,  and  the  Deans  were  away  also.  But 
Daisy  Jasper  kissed  her  dozens  of  times,  and  said 
she  had  missed  her  beyond  everything  and  she 
would  not  have  known  how  to  get  along  but  for 
Dr.  Joe.  Hanny  had  so  much  to  tell  her  about 
the  journey  and  her  relatives. 

"And  I  haven't  even  any  grandmother,"  said 
Daisy.  "  There  is  one  family  of  cousins  in  Ken 
tucky,  and  one  in  Canada.  So  you  see  I  am  quite 
destitute." 

Both  little  girls  laughed  at  that. 

Dr.  Joe  said  Daisy  was  really  improving.  She 
walked  about  with  her  crutch,  but  they  were 
afraid  one  leg  would  be  a  little  short. 

Charles  came  over  to  see  Hanny  that  very  even 
ing.  He  certainly  had  grown  taller,  and  had  lost 
much  of  his  timidity.  He  really  "  talked  up"  to 
Jim.  He  was  so  fair  and  with  the  sort  of  sweet 
expression  that  was  considered  girlish,  and  kept 


SOME  OF  THE  OLD  LANDMARKS       323 

himself  so  very  neat,  that  he  was  different  from 
most  boys.  I  don't  suppose  his  mother  ever 
realized  how  much  mortification  and  persecution 
it  had  cost  him. 

She  still  toiled  from  morning  to  night.  Charles 
began  to  wish  she  would  wear  a  pretty  gown  and 
collar  and  a  white  apron  at  supper  time  instead  of 
the  dreadful  faded  ginghams.  Everything  had  a 
faded  look  with  her,  she  washed  her  clothes  so 
often,  swept  her  carpets,  and  scrubbed  her  oil 
cloths  so  much.  The  only  thing  she  couldn't  fade 
was  the  window-glass. 

Charles  and  his  father  had  grown  quite  confi 
dential.  They  had  talked  about  school  and  col 
lege. 

"Though  I  am  afraid  I  don't  want  to  be  a 
minister,"  said  Charles,  drawing  a  long  breath  as 
if  he  had  given  utterance  to  a  very  wicked 
thought. 

"  You  shall  have  your  own  choice  about  it,"  re 
plied  his  father  firmly.  "And  there's  no  hurry." 

It  had  been  such  a  pleasure  to  walk  down-town 
every  morning  with  his  father.  Broadway  was 
fresh  and  clean,  and  the  breeze  came  up  from  the 
river  at  every  corner.  There  were  not  so  many 
people  nor  factories,  and  there  were  still  some  lots 
given  over  to  grassy  spaces  and  shrubs.  Walking 
to  business  was  considered  quite  the  thing  then. 

He  had  a  great  deal  to  tell  Hanny  about  "  our" 


324    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

store,  and  what  "we"  were  doing.  The  new 
beautiful  stock  that  was  coming  in,  for  then  it 
took  from  twelve  to  sixteen  days  to  cross  the 
ocean,  and  you  had  to  order  quite  in  advance. 
He  had  learned  to  play  several  tunes  on  the  accor- 
deon,  and  he  hoped  his  father  would  let  him  take 
his  four  weeks'  wages  and  buy  one.  And  Mr. 
Gerard  had  said  he  should  be  very  happy  to  have 
all  the  girls  and  their  mothers  come  down  some 
afternoon. 

"  And  if  Daisy  only  could  go !" 

"Isn't  she  beautiful?"  said  Charles.  "She  looks 
like  an  angel.  Her  short  golden  hair  is  like  the 
glory  they  put  around  the  saints  and  the  Saviour, 
an  aureole  they  call  it." 

"  What  a  beautiful  word. " 

"I  thought  at  first  she  would  die.  But  your 
brother  is  sure  she  will  live  now.  Only  it's  such 

a  pity "  the  boy's  voice  faltered  a  little  from 

intense  sympathy. 

Hanny  sighed  too.  She  knew  what  he  meant 
to  say.  But  the  children  refrained  from  giving  it 
a  name.  "  Hanny,  I  think  it's  just  splendid  to  be 
a  doctor.  To  help  people  and  encourage  them 
when  you  can't  cure  them.  He  said  one  night 
when  he  stqpped  at  the  Deans  that  she  might  have 
been  dreadfully  deformed,  and  now  it  will  not  be 
very  bad,  that  when  her  lovely  hair  gets  grown 
out  again  it  will  not  show  much.  I'm  so  glad." 


SOME  OF  THE  OLD  LANDMARKS       325 

They  had  cut  the  golden  ringlets  close  to  he~ 
head,  for  she  could  not  be  disturbed  during  those 
critical  weeks  in  the  hospital. 

When  the  Deans  came  home  there  was  great 
rejoicing.  And  since  there  was  such  a  little  time 
left  for  Charles  to  stay  in  the  store  they  could  not 
wait  for  Elsie  and  Flossie. 

"If  we  could  take  Daisy,"  Hanny  said  to  Joe. 
He  dropped  in  nearly  every  evening  now.  The 
city  was  very  healthy  in  spite  of  August  weather, 
and  young  doctors  were  not  wont  to  be  overrun 
with  calls. 

"  I  don't  see  why  you  shouldn't.  It  would  be 
the  best  thing  in  the  world  for  her  to  go  out,  and 
to  be  with  other  children  and  have  some  interests 
in  common  with  them.  Yes,  let  us  go  down  and 
see. " 

The  family  were  all  out  on  the  stoop  and  the 
little  paved  court.  They  were  so  screened  from 
observation.  Dr.  Joe  came  and  stood  by  Daisy's 
chair,  while  Hanny  sat  on  a  stool  and  held  the 
soft  hand.  Then  he  preferred  the  children's  re 
quest. 

"Oh,  it  would  be  lovely!"  Then  the  pale  face 
flushed.  "  I  don't  believe  I — could." 

"  Why  not?"  asked  Dr.  Joe. 

There  was  no  immediate  answer.  Mrs.  Jasper 
said  hesitatingly :  "  Would  it  be  wise,  doctor?  One 
cannot  help  being — well,  sensitive." 


326    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"  Yet  you  do  not  want  to  keep  this  little  girl 
forever  secluded.  There  are  so  many  enjoyable 
things  in  the  world.  It  is  not  even  as  if  Daisy 
had  brothers  and  sisters  who  were  coming  in 
hourly  with  all  manner  of  freshness  and  fun." 

"  I  can't  bear  people  to  look  at  me  so.  I  can 
almost  hear  what  they  say " 

Daisy's  voice  broke  in  a  short  sob. 

"My  dear  child,"  Dr.  Joe  took  the  other  hand 
and  patted  it  caressingly.  "  It  is  very  sad  and  a 
great  misfortune,  but  if  you  had  to  remember 
that  it  came  from  the  violence  of  a  drunken 
father,  or  the  carelessness  of  an  inefficient  mother, 
it  would  seem  a  harder  burden  to  bear.  We  can't 
tell  why  God  allows  some  very  sad  events  to 
happen,  but  when  they  do  come  we  must  look 
about  for  the  best  means  of  bearing  them.  God 
has  seen  fit  to  make  a  restoration  to  health  and 
comparative  strength  possible.  I  think  He  means 
you  to  have  some  enjoyment  as  well.  And  when 
one  gets  used  to  bearing  a  burden  it  does  not  seem 
so  heavy.  Your  parents  are  prosperous  enough 
to  afford  you  a  great  many  indulgences,  and  you 
must  not  refuse  them  from  a  spirit  of  undue  sen 
sitiveness.  And  then,  my  little  girl,  God  has  given 
you  such  a  beautiful  face  that  it  cannot  help  but 
attract.  Can't  you  be  brave  enough  to  take  the 
pleasures  that  come  to  you  without  darkening 
them  by  a  continual  sense  of  the  misfortune?" 


SOME  OF  THE  OLD  LANDMARKS   327 

Daisy  was  crying  now.  Dr.  Joe  pressed  the 
small  figure  to  his  heart,  and  kissed  her  forehead. 
He  had  been  unusually  interested  in  the  case,  but 
he  knew  now  some  effort  must  be  made,  some 
mental  pain  endured,  or  her  life  would  drop  to 
weariness.  Mrs.  Jasper  was  very  sensitive  to 
comment  herself. 

Mr.  Jasper  began  to  walk  up  and  down  the 
path. 

"Yes,  doctor,"  he  exclaimed;  "what  you  say  is 
true.  You  r  ave  been  such  a  good  friend  to  my 
little  girl.  We  want  her  to  be  happy  and  to  have 
some  companionship.  The  children  up  your  way 
have  been  very  kind  and  sympathetic.  I  like 
that  young  lad  extremely.  It  is  only  at  first  that 
the  thing  seems  so  hard.  Daisy,  I  think  I  would 
go." 

He  came  and  kissed  his  unfortunate  little  girl. 

"Oh,  do!"  entreated  Hanny  softly.  "You  see, 
it  will  be  like  the  ladies  of  long  ago  when  they 
went  out  in  their  chairs.  There's  some  pictures 
in  the  old  books  Miss  Lois  sent  us,  and  the  funny 
clothes  they  wore.  I'll  bring  them  over  some 
day.  I  read  about  a  lady  going  to  Court  in  her 
chair.  And  there  were  two  or  three  pretty  maids 
to  wait  on  her.  We'll  make  believe  you  are  the 
Countess  Somebody,  and  we  are  the  ladies  in 
waiting.  And  we'll  all  go  to  the  Palace.  The 
King  will  be  out;  they're  always  on  hunting  ex- 


328     A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

peditions,  and  the  Prince,  that  will  be  Charles, 
there  was  a  bonnie  Prince  Charlie  once,  will  take 
us  about  and  show  us  the  lovely  things  in  the 
Palace " 

Hanny  had  talked  herself  out  of  breath  and 
stopped. 

Mr.  Jasper  laughed.  "Upon  my  word,  Miss 
Hanny,  you  would  make  a  good  stage  manager. 
There,  could  you  have  it  planned  out  any  nicer, 
Daisy?  I  shall  have  to  be  on  hand  to  see  the 
triumphal  procession  as  it  goes  .down  Broadway. " 

Hanny's  imagination  had  rendered  it  pos 
sible. 

Joe  swung  her  up  in  his  strong  arms. 

"We  think  a  good  deal  of  our  Hanny,"  he  said 
laughingly.  "If  she  was  smaller  she  might  be 
exhibited  along  with  Tom  Thumb,  but  she's 
spoiled  that  brilliant  enterprise,  and  yet  she  stays 
so  small  that  we  begin  to  think  she's  stunted." 

"  Oh,  Joe,  do  you  really?"  she  cried. 

"  We  shall  have  to  call  her  the  little  girl  all  her 
life.  And  you  know  she's  bothered  a  good  deal 
about  her  name,  which  isn't  at  all  pretty,  but  she 
takes  it  in  good  part,  and  puts  up  with  it." 

"  I  call  her  Annie  sometimes,"  said  Daisy. 

"Ann  is  but  plain  and  common, 

And  Nancy  sounds  but  ill ; 
While  Anna  is  endurable, 
And  Annie  better  still," 


SOME  OF  THE  OLD  LANDMARKS       329 

repeated  Dr.  Joe.  "  So  you  see  we  all  have  some 
trials.  To  be  a  little  mite  of  a  thing  and  to  be 
called  Hanneran  is  pretty  bad.  And  now,  little 
mite,  we  must  go  back  home.  When  will  the 
cavalcade  start?  I  must  be  on  hand  to  see  it 
move. " 

"About  three,  Charles  said.  Oh,  it  will  be 
just  delightful!" 

Now  that  Hanny  had  been  put  down  she  hopped 
around  on  one  foot  for  joy. 

They  said  good-night  and  walked  up  home. 

"Don't  you  think  I  will  grow  some,  Joe?"  she 
asked,  with  a  pretty  doubt  in  her  tone.  "  I  did 
grow  last  year,  for  mother  had  to  let  down  my 
skirts." 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  grow  too  much.  I  like 
little  women,"  he  answered. 

The  cavalcade,  as  Dr.  Joe  called  it,  did  start 
the  next  day.  Daisy's  mother  and  her  Aunt  Ellen 
went,  Mrs.  Dean  and  Margaret,  and  four  little  girls, 
including  Nora  Whitney,  who  was  growing  "  like  a 
weed."  They  went  out  to  Broadway  'and  then 
straight  down.  Of  course  people  looked  at  them. 
The  children  were  so  merry,  and  really,  Daisy  in 
her  chair  with  her  colored  attendent  was  quite  an 
unusual  incident.  Aunt  Ellen  had  let  her  carry 
her  pretty  dove-colored  sunshade.  It  was  lined 
with  pink  and  had  a  joint  in  the  handle  that  turned 
it  down  and  made  a  shelter  from  too  curious  eyes. 


330    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

There  were  a  good  many  people  out.  It  was  not 
necessary  then  to  go  away  for  the  whole  summer 
in  order  to  be  considered  fashionable.  People 
went  and  came,  and  when  they  were  home 
they  promenaded  in  the  afternoon  without  los 
ing  caste. 

Stores  were  creeping  up  Broadway.  "  Gerard 
&  Co. "  was  on  the  block  above  the  Astor  House, 
a  very  attractive  notion  and  fancy  store.  The 
window  was  always  beautifully  arranged,  and  the 
cases  were  full  of  tempting  articles.  There  were 
seats  for  customers,  and  across  the  end  of  the  long 
store  pictures  and  bijou  tables  and  music-boxes 
were  displayed.  In  a  small  anteroom  there  was  a 
workshop  where  musical  instruments,  jewelry 
and,  trinkets  were  repaired. 

Sam  lifted  out  his  young  mistress  and  carried 
her  in.  Charles  came  forward  to  receive  his 
guests,  and  though  he  flushed  and  showed  some 
embarrassment,  acquitted  himself  quite  credita 
bly.  Mr.  Gerard,  with  his  French  politeness, 
made  them  very  welcome  and  took  a  warm  interest 
at  once  in  Daisy.  She  sat  by  the  counter  with 
Sam  at  her  back,  and  looked  quite  the  countess  of 
Hanny's  description.  Mr.  Gerard  brought  her 
some  rare  and  pretty  articles  to  examine.  The 
others  strolled  around,  the  children  uttering  ejac 
ulations  of  delight.  Such  elegant  fans  and  card 
cases  and  mother-of-pearl  portemonnaies  bound 


SOME  OF  THE  OLD  LANDMARKS   331 

with  silver  and  steel!  Such  vases  and  card  re 
ceivers — indeed,  all  the  pretty  bric-a-brac,  as  we 
should  term  it  nowadays. 

But  the  greatest  interest  was  aroused  by  the 
music-boxes.  The  children  listened  enchanted  to 
the  limpid  tinkle  of  the  tunes.  It  was  like  fairy 
land. 

"  Oh,"  cried  Daisy,  with  a  long1  sigh  of  rapture; 
"  if  I  only  could  have  a  music-box !  Then  I  could 
play  for  myself.  And  it  is  so  beautiful.  Oh, 
mamma!" 

Mrs.  Jasper  inquired  prices.  From  twenty-four 
dollars  to  beyond  one  hundred.  There  was  one 
at  forty  dollars  that  played  deliciously,  and  such  a 
variety  of  tunes. 

"  And  when  you  tire  of  them  you  can  have  new 
music  put  in,"  explained  Mr.  Gerard. 

"  And  you  don't  have  to  learn  all  the  tiresome 
fingering,"  commented  Hanny. 

"  If  I  had  a  piano  I  shouldn't  ever  think  it  tire 
some,"  said  Charles. 

"Oh,  yes,  you  would,  even  when  you  loved  it 
and  tried  to  learn  with  all  your  might.  Tunes 
give  you  a  joyful  sort  of  feeling,"  and  Hanny 's 
eyes  sparkled. 

"And  you  could  dance  to  this,"  Tudie  whis 
pered  softly,  while  her  eyes  danced  unmistak 
ably. 

Mrs.  Jasper  examined  several  of  them  and  list- 


332    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

ened  to  the  tunes.  They  came  back  to  that  for 
forty  dollars. 

"  We  will  have  to  talk  to  papa.  He  thought  he 
might  drop  in." 

The  children  did  not  tire  of  waiting.  Hanny 
thought  she  might  spend  a  whole  day  looking  over 
everything,  and  listening  to  the  dainty,  enchant 
ing  music.  But  Mrs.  Dean  said  she  -must  go. 

Just  at  that  instant  Mr.  Jasper  arrived,  having 
been  detained.  His  wife  spoke  in  a  little  aside, 
and  he  showed  his  interest  at  once.  Why,  yes,  a 
music-box  could  not  fail  to  be  a  great  delight  to 
Daisy. 

Mr.  Gerard  wound  up  two  or  three  of  them 
again.  Then  the  ladies  decided  they  would  ride 
up  in  the  stage  with  the  children.  Mr.  Jasper 
and  Sam  would  see  to  Daisy's  safety. 

And  the  result  was  that  Mr.  Jasper  bought  the 
music-box,  ordering  it  sent  home  the  next  day. 
Daisy  was  speechless  with  joy.  Sam  carried  her 
out  and  put  her  into  her  chair. 

"  I  don't  believe  I  shall  ever  be  afraid  to  go  out 
again,"  she  said  eagerly.  Indeed  she  did  not 
mind  the  eyes  that  peered  at  her  now.  Some  were 
very  pitying  and  sympathetic. 

As  Charles  was  putting  away  many  of  the  choice 
articles  for  the  night  Mr.  Gerard  slipped  a  dollar 
into  his  hand. 

"That's  your  commission,"  he  said  smilingly, 


SOME  OF  THE  OLD  LANDMARKS       333 

"  on  unexpected  good  fortune.  And  I  shall  be  so 
sorry  to  lose  you.  I  wish  it  was  the  first  of 
August  instead  of  the  last,  or  that  you  didn't  want 
to  go  back  to  school." 


Cbapter 

SUNDRY    DISSIPATIONS. 

THE  schools  were  all  opened  again.  Hanny 
wasn't  too  big  to  go  to  Mrs.  Craven's,  indeed  her 
school  commenced  with  some  girls  two  or  three 
years  older.  Ben  went  to  work,  starting  off  in 
the  morning  with  John.  Jim  felt  rather  lonely. 

His  best  girl  had  been  undeniably  "  snifty"  to 
him.  Something  had  happened  to  her  at  last. 
Through  a  friend  her  father  had  secured  a  position 
in  the  Custom  House.  It  was  not  very  high,  but 
it  had  an  exalted  sound.  And  instead  of  the 
paltry  five  hundred  dollars  he  earned  at  the  shoe 
store,  the  salary  was  a  thousand.  They  were  go 
ing  to  move  around  in  First  Avenue.  Hanny  was 
sorry  that  it  was  a  few  doors  above  Mrs.  Craven's. 
If  Lily  had  only  gone  out  of  the  neighborhood ! 

Of  course  she  disdained  the  public  school.  She 
was  going  to  Rutgers.  She  held  her  head  very 
high  as  they  went  back  and  forth  during  the  re 
moval,  and  stared  at  Hanny  as  if  she  had  never 
known  her. 

But  there  were  so  many  things  to  interest 
334 


SUNDRY  DISSIPATIONS  335 

Hanny.  Sometimes  she  read  the  paper  to  her 
father,  and  it  was  filled  with  threats  and  excite 
ments.  In  the  year  before,  the  independence  of 
Texas  had  been  consented  to  by  Mexico  on  condi 
tion  that  her  separate  existence  should  be  main 
tained.  But  on  the  Fourth  of  July,  at  a  conven 
tion,  the  people  had  accepted  some  terms  offered 
by  the  United  States,  and  declared  for  annexation. 
For  fear  of  a  sudden  alarm  General  Zachary 
Taylor  had  been  sent  with  an  army  of  occupation, 
and  Commodore  Connor  with  a  squadron  of  naval 
vessels  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  The  talk  of  war 
ran  high. 

Then  we  were  in  a  difficulty  with  England  about 
some  Oregon  boundaries.  "  The  whole  of  Oregon 
or  none,"  was  the  cry.  England  was  given  a 
year's  notice  that  steps  would  be  taken  to  bring 
the  question  to  a  settlement.  Timid  people  de 
clared  that  wild  land  was  not  worth  quarrelling 
about. 

If  you  could  see  an  atlas  of  those  days  I  think 
you  would  be  rather  surprised,  and  we  are  all  con 
vinced  now  that  geography  is  by  no  means  an 
exact  science.  The  little  girl  and  her  father 
studied  it  all  out.  There  was  big,  unwieldy  Ore 
gon.  There  were  British  America  and  Russian 
America.  There  were  Nova  Zembla  and  Spitz- 
bergen,  and  though  there  were  dreams  of  an  open 
Polar  Sea,  no  one  was  disturbing  it.  We  had  a 


336    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

great  American  Desert,  and  some  wild  lands  the 
other  side  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  An  intrepid 
young  explorer,  John  Charles  Fremont,  had  dis 
covered  an  inland  sea  which  he  had  named  Salt 
Lake,  and  then  gone  up  to  Fort  Vancouver  on  the 
Columbia  River. 

He  had  started  again  now  to  survey  California 
and  Oregon.  We  thought  Kansas  and  Nebraska 
very  far  West  in  those  days,  and  the  Pacific  coast 
was  an  almost  unknown  land.  We  had  just  rati 
fied  a  treaty  with  China,  after  long  obstinacy  on 
their  part,  and  Japan  was  still  The  Hermit  King 
dom  and  the  Mikado  an  unknown  quantity. 

And  so  everybody  was  talking  war.  But  then 
it  was  so  far  away  one  didn't  really  need  to  be 
frightened  unless  we  had  war  with  England. 

There  were  various  other  matters  that  quite  dis 
turbed  the  little  girl.  It  had  not  seemed  strange 
in  the  summer  to  have  Dr.  Hoffman  come  and 
take  Margaret  out  driving,  or  for  an  evening 
walk.  But  now  he  began  to  come  on  Sunday 
afternoon  and  stay  to  tea.  Mrs.  Underhill  was 
very  chatty  and  pleasant  with  him.  She  had  ac 
cepted  the  fact  of  Margaret's  engagement,  and  to 
tell  the  truth  was  really  proud  of  it.  Already  she 
was  beginning  to  "lay  by,"  as  people  phrased  it, 
regardless  of  Lindley  Murray,  for  her  wedding 
outfit.  There  were  a  few  choice  things  of  Cousin 
Lois'  that  she  meant  for  her.  Pieces  of  muslin 


SUNDRY  DISSIPATIONS  337 

came  in  the  house  and  were  cut  up  into  sheets 
and  pillow-cases.  They  were  all  to  be  sewed  over- 
seam  and  hemmed  by  hand.  A  year  would  be 
none  too  long  in  which  to  get  ready. 

Josie  one  day  said  something  about  Margaret 
being  engaged.  Hanny  made  no  reply.  She 
went  home  in  a  strange  mood.  To  be  sure,  Steve 
had  married  Dolly,  but  that  was  different.  How 
could  Margaret  leave  them  all  and  go  away  with 
some  one  who  did  not  belong  to  them !  She  could 
not  understand  the  mystery.  It  was  as  puzzling 
as  Cousin  Lois'  death.  She  did  not  know  then  it 
was  a  mystery  even  to  those  who  loved,  and  the 
poets  who  wrote  about  it. 

Her  mother  sat  by  the  front  basement  window 
sewing.  Martha  was  finishing  the  ironing  and 
singing: 

44  O  how  happy  are  they 

Who  their  Saviour  obey 
And  have  laid  up  their  treasure  above." 

Martha  had  been  converted  the  winter  before 
and  joined  the  Methodist  church  in  Norfolk 
Street.  The  little  girl  went  with  her  sometimes 
to  the  early  prayer-meeting  Sunday  evening,  for 
she  was  enraptured  with  the  singing. 

But  she  went  to  her  mother  now,  standing 
straight  before  her  with  large,  earnest  eyes. 

"  Mother,"  with  a  strange  solemnity  in  her  tone, 

22 


338    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"  are  you  going  to  let  Margaret  marry  Dr.  Hoff 
man?" 

"Law,  child,  how  you  startled  me!"  Her 
mother  sewed  faster  than  ever.  "Why,  I  don't 
know  as  I  had  much  to  do  with  it  any  way.  And 
I  suppose  they'd  marry  anyhow.  When  young 
people  fall  in  love " 

"  Fall  in  love. "  She  had  read  that  in  some  of 
the  books.  It  must  be  different  from  just  loving. 

"Don't  be  silly,"  said  her  mother,  between 
sharpness  and  merriment.  "  Everybody  falls  in 
love  sooner  or  later  and  marries.  Almost  every 
body.  And  if  I  had  not  fallen  in  love  with  your 
father  and  married  him,  you  mightn't  have  had  so 
good  a  one." 

"Oh,  mother,  I'm  so  glad  you  did!"  She  flung 
her  arms  about  her  mother's  neck  and  kissed  her 
so  rapturously  that  the  tears  came  to  her  mother's 
eyes.  Why,  she  wouldn't  have  missed  the  ex 
quisite  joy  of  having  this  little  girl  for  all  the- 
world ! 

"There,  child,  don't  strangle  me,"  was  what 
she  said,  in  an  unsteady  voice. 

"  But  Dr.  Hoffman  isn't  like  father " 

"  No,  dear.  And  Margaret  isn't  like  me,  now. 
They  are  young,  and  maybe  when  they  have  been 
married  a  good  many  years  they  will  be  just  as 
happy,  growing  old  together.  And  since  Mar 
garet  loves  him  and  he  loves  her — why,  we  are 


SUNDRY  DISSIPATIONS  339 

all  delighted  with  Dolly.  She's  just  another 
daughter. " 

"  But  we  have  a  good  many  sons, "  said  the  little 
girl,  without  seeing  the  humor  of  it. 

"  Yes,  we  didn't  really  need  him,  just  yet.  But 
he's  Joe's  dear  friend  and  a  nice  young  man,  and 
your  father  is  satisfied.  It's  the  way  of  the  world. 
Little  girls  can't  understand  it  very  well,  but  they 
always  do  when  they're  grown  up.  There,  go 
hang  up  your  bonnet,  and  then  you  may  set  the 
table." 

Yes,  it  was  a  great  mystery.  Margaret  seemed 
suddenly  set  apart,  made  sacred  in  some  way. 
Hanny's  intensity  of  thought  had  no  experience 
to  shape  or  restrain  it.  All  the  girls  had  liked 
Charles, — perhaps  if  there  had  been  several  boys 
and  spasms  of  jealousy  between  the  girls,  she 
might  have  been  roused  to  a  more  correct  idea. 
But  though  they  had  made  him  the  father,  a  lover 
had  been  quite  outside  of  their  simple  category. 

Margaret  came  down  presently.  She  had  on 
her  pretty  brown  merino  trimmed  with  bands  of 
scarlet  velvet,  and  at  her  throat  a  white  bow  just 
edged  with  scarlet.  Her  front  hair  was  curled  in 
ringlets. 

"  Mother,  can't  we  have  supper  quite  soon,  or 
can't  I?  The  concert  begins  at  half -past  seven 
and  we  want  to  be  there  early  and  get  a  good 
seat.  Dr.  Hoffman  is  coming  at  half -past  six." 


340    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Father  came  in.  Mrs.  Underbill  jumped  up 
and  brought  in  the  tea.  Jim  came  whistling 
down  the  area  steps.  They  did  not  need  to  wait 
for  John  and  Benny  Frank. 

Hanny  looked  at  her  sister  quite  as  if  she  were 
a  new  person,  with  some  solemn  distinction. 
How  had  she  come  to  love  Dr.  Hoffman? 

She  had  not  settled  it  when  she  went  to  bed 
alone.  There  was  a  dreary  feeling  now  of  years 
and  years  without  Margaret. 

That  was  Friday,  and  the  following  Sunday  Dr. 
Hoffman  marched  into  the  parlor  with  a  vital  at- 
home  step.  Margaret  was  up-stairs.  Hanny  sat 
in  her  little  rocker  reading  her  Sunday-school 
book.  He  smiled  and  came  over  to  her,  took 
away  her  book,  and  clasping  both  hands  drew  her 
up,  seated  himself,  and  her  on  his  knee  before  she 
could  make  any  resistance. 

"  Hanny,"  he  began,  "  do  you  know  you  are  go 
ing  to  be  my  little  sister?  I  can't  remember 
when  I  had  a  little  sister,  mine  always  seemed  big 
to  me.  And  I  am  very  glad  to  have  you.  You 
are  such  a  sweet,  dear  little  girl.  Won't  you  give 
me  a  word  of  welcome?" 

Something  in  his  voice  touched  her. 

"  I  wasn't  glad  on  Friday,"  she  said  slowly.  "  I 
don't  want  Margaret  to  go  away " 

"Then  you  will  have  to  take  me  in 
here." 


SUNDRY  DISSIPATIONS  341 

"There's  Stephen's  room,"  she  suggested 
naively. 

"Yes,  that  would  do.  But  I'm  not  going  to 
take  Margaret  away  in  a  long,  long  time. " 

"  Oh!"     She  was  greatly  relieved. 

"But  I  want  you  to  love  me,"  and  he  gave  her 
a  squeeze,  wondering  how  she  could  have  kept  so 
deliciously  innocent.  "  Won't  you  try?  You  will 
make  Margaret  ever  so  much  happier.  We  should 
be  sad  if  you  didn't  love  us,  and  now  if  you  love 
one,  you  must  love  the  other." 

Then  Margaret  came  down,  and  she  said  the 
same  thing,  so  what  could  Hanny  do  but  promise. 
And  it  seemed  not  to  disturb  any  one  else.  When 
she  spoke  of  the  prospect  to  her  father,  he  said 
with  a  laugh  and  a  hug:  "Well,  I  have  my  little 
girl  yet." 

Dolly  and  Stephen  took  possession  of  their  new 
abode  and  had  a  "  house-warming, "  a  great,  big, 
splendid  party  almost  as  grand  as  the  wedding. 
And  what  a  beautiful  house  it  was !  There  was  a 
bathroom  and  marble  basins,  and  gas  in  every 
room,  and  pretty  light  carpets  with  flowers  and 
green  leaves  all  over  them.  There  was  music  and 
dancing  and  a  supper,  and  old  Mr.  Beekman 
walked  round  with  her  and  told  her  Katschina 
wasn't  well  at  all,  and  he  was  afraid  he  should  lose 
her.  Dolly  said  she  was  to  come  up  on  Friday 
after  school  and  stay  until  Monday  morning. 


342    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

Would  Margaret  and  Dr.  Hoffman  have  a  house 
like  this  some  time? 

She  had  more  lessons  to  learn  now.  And  gram 
mar  was  curiously  associated  with  Mrs.  Murray 
being  so  sweet  and  attentive  to  the  British  officers 
while  the  Federal  soldiers  stole  along — she  could 
fairly  see  them  with  her  vivid  imagination.  His 
tory  began  to  unfold  the  great  world  before  her. 
Another  thing  interested  her,  and  this  was  that 
every  pleasant  day  Daisy  Jasper  came  to  school 
for  the  morning  session.  She  was  very  backward, 
of  course,  for  she  had  never  been  to  school  at  all. 
She  could  walk  now  without  her  crutch,  but  Sam 
was  always  very  careful  of  her.  The  Jasper  house 
became  the  rendezvous  for  the  girls,  as  the  Deans' 
had  been.  Even  bonnie  Prince  Charlie  was  al 
lowed  to  go  there.  Daisy  loved  so  to  see  them 
dance  to  the  music  of  her  wonderful  box.  But 
Charles  had  not  been  able  to  buy  his  accordeon. 
He  needed  a  new  suit  of  clothes  if  he  had  any 
money  to  throw  away,  and  Mrs.  Reed  insisted  this 
should  be  put  in  the  bank  when  his  father  said  he 
could  buy  him  all  the  clothes  he  needed. 

Some  of  the  girls  at  school  were  making  pretty 
things  for  a  fair  to  be  held  in  the  basement  of  the 
Church  of  the  Epiphany  in  Stanton  Street,  and 
they  begged  Hanny  to  help.  They  were  to  have 
a  fair  at  Martha's  church  also,  and  the  little  fingers 
flew  merrily.  Hanny  had  found  a  new  accom- 


SUNDRY  DISSIPATIONS  343 

plishment,  and  she  was  very  proud  to  bring  it  into 
the  school.  This  was  crocheting.  Next  door  to 
the  stable  in  Houston  Street  lived  a  very  tidy  Ger 
man  family  with  a  host  of  little  children.  The 
man  did  cobbling,  mending  boots  and  shoes.  His 
wife  did  shoe  binding  and  stitching  leather  "  fox- 
ings"  on  cloth  tops  for  gaiters.  Button  shoes  had 
not  come  in.  They  either  laced  in  front  or  at  the 
side.  And  very  few  ladies  wore  anything  higher 
than  the  spring  heel,  as  it  was  called.  To  be 
sure,  some  of  them  did  wear  foolishly  thin  shoes, 
but  there  were  rubbers  unless  you  disdained  them ; 
and  they  were  real  India-rubber,  and  no  mistake, 
rather  clumsy  oftentimes,  but  they  lasted  two  or 
three  years. 

The  little  German  girls,  Lena  and  Gretchen, 
took  care  of  the  babies  and  did  the  work.  It 
seemed  to  Hanny  they  were  always  busy.  Lena 
knit  stockings  and  mittens  and  caps,  and  her  small 
fingers  flew  like  birds.  One  day  she  was  doing 
something  very  beautiful  with  pink  zephyr  and 
an  ivory  needle  with  a  tiny  hook  at  the 
end. 

"  Oh,  what  is  it?"  cried  Hanny  eagerly. 

"Lace.  Crocheted  lace.  A  lady  on  Grand 
Street  will  give  me  ten  cents  a  yard.  It  is  for 
babies'  petticoats.  And  you  can  make  caps  and 
hoods  and  fascinators.  It  plagued  me  a  little  at 
first,  but  now  I  can  do  it  so  fast,  much  faster  than 


344    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

knitting  it.  And  I  am  to  have  all  the  work  I  can 
do." 

"  Oh,  if  I  could  learn !"  cried  Hanny. 

"  I'll  show  you  because  you  are  so  good  to  us. 
Your  boy  brought  mother  such  a  package  of 
clothes.  But  I  am  not  going  to  teach  the  girls 
around  here.  They  will  be  wanting  to  do  it  for 
the  stores.  You  can  make  lace  with  cotton  thread 
and  oh !  elegant  with  silk.  That  is  worth  a  good 
deal." 

Hanny  bought  her  needle  and  worsted.  At  first 
she  was  "  bothered"  as  well.  But  she  was  an  in 
genious  little  girl,  and  when  you  once  had  the 
"  knack"  there  were  such  infinite  varieties  to  it. 
And  oh,  it  was  so  fascinating!  She  hardly  had 
time  to  study  her  lessons,  and  one  day  she  did 
actually  miss  in  her  definitions.  But  she  begged 
Mrs.  Craven  to  let  her  study  them  over  and  recite 
after  school,  for  she  knew  her  father  would  feel 
badly  about  the  imperfect  mark. 

When  she  had  made  two  yards  of  beautiful  pink 
lace  she  showed  it  to  Margaret.  She  meant  to 
make  two  yards  of  blue  and  give  them  both  to 
Katy  Rhodes  for  her  table  at  the  Fair.  Margaret 
was  very  much  pleased  and  said  she  must  learn 
herself.  Daisy  Jasper  did  a  little,  too.  She  was 
learning  very  rapidly  and  had  a  wonderful  genius 
for  drawing. 

Oh,  dear!   how  busy  they  were.     They  were 


SUNDRY  DISSIPATIONS  345 

happy  and  interested,  and  almost  forgot  to  take 
out  their  dolls,  or  read  their  story-books.  Martha 
said :  "  You  might  do  something  for  my  fair,  too," 
and  Margaret  promised. 

Jim  did  feel  a  little  sore  that  Lily  Ludlow  did 
not  ask  him  to  her  party,  which  was  quite  a  grand 
affair.  She  announced  that  she  had  broken  with 
the  public-school  crowd,  and  was  going  to  have 
all  new  friends.  But  the  very  ne.xt  week  she  met 
Jim  at  another  party,  and  he  was  so  handsome  and 
manly  that  she  really  regretted  her  haste.  Jim 
was  very  proud  and  dignified,  and  never  once 
danced  with  her  nor  chose  her  in  any  of  the 
games. 

Dolly  and  Stephen  came  home  to  the  Thanks 
giving  dinner.  If  Hanny  had  not  been  so  much 
engrossed  she  might  have  considered  herself  left 
out  of  some  things,  only  her  father  never  left  her 
out.  And  Ben  brought  home  such  tempting 
books  that  she  did  wish  she  could  sit  up  like  the 
others  and  not  have  to  go  to  bed  at  nine. 

The  Epiphany  fair  came  first,  the  week  before 
Christmas.  The  Sunday-school  room  was  all 
dressed  with  greens,  and  tables  arranged  over  the 
tops  of  the  seats  with  long  boards,  covered  with 
white  cloths.  And  oh,  the  lovely  articles! 
Everything  it  seemed  that  fingers  could  make, 
useful  or  ornamental,  from  handsomely  dressed 
dolls  to  pincushions,  from  white  aprons  with  lace 


346    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

and  ribbon  bows  on  the  dainty  pockets  down  to 
unromantic  holders.  Everybody  laughed  and 
chatted  and  were  as  gay  as  gay  could  be. 

In  the  back  room  that  was  rented  out  for  a  day 
school — indeed,  the  little  girl  had  come  quite  near 
being  sent  here — there  were  tables  for  refresh 
ments.  The  coffee  and  tea  had  a  delightful  fra 
grance,  and  the  different  dishes  looked  wonder 
fully  tempting. 

It  was  Hanny's  first  fair,  but  people  didn't  ex 
pect  to  take  children  out  everywhere  then,  or  in 
deed  to  go  themselves.  There  was  more  home 
life,  real  family  life.  Her  father  was  her  escort, 
and  her  mother  had  said:  "Now  don't  make  the 
child  sick  by  feeding  her  all  kinds  of  trash,  or  she 
can't  go  out  again  this  winter."  So  you  see  they 
had  to  be  careful.  But  they  had  some  delightful 
cake  and  cream,  and  he  bought  her  a  pound  of 
candy  tied  up  in  a  pretty  box,  and  the  loveliest 
little  work-basket  with  a  row  of  blue  silk  pockets 
around  the  inside. 

Katy  Rhodes  was  waiting  at  a  table  with  her 
mother,  but  she  found  an  opportunity  to  whisper 
to  Hanny  "  that  her  lace  had  sold  the  very  first 
thing,  and  there  had  been  such  a  call  for  it  she 
just  wished  they  had  had  a  hundred  yards." 

That  pleased  the  child  very  much. 

"  It  was  like  a  store,"  said  Hanny  to  her  mother; 
"  only  everybody  seemed  to  know  everybody,  and 


SUNDRY  DISSIPATIONS  347 

there  were  all  kinds  of  things.  So  many  people 
came  for  their  suppers  they  must  have  made  lots 
of  money.  And  I'm  as  tired  as  I  can  be,  only  it 
was  beautiful." 

Martha's  church  was  to  have  their  Christmas 
Sunday-school  anniversary,  and  Charles  Reed 
was  to  sing  a  solo  with  a  chorus  of  four  voices. 
The  Deans  and  half  the  people  in  the  street  went. 
Margaret  and  Dr.  Hoffman,  and  this  time  John 
and  Ben  took  the  little  girl.  Mother  had  been 
up  at  Steve's  all  day. 

There  was  a  large  platform  at  the  end  of  the 
church,  and  crowds  of  pretty  children  dressed  in 
white,  ranged  in  tiers  one  above  another.  After 
a  prayer  and  singing  by  the  congregation  the  real 
exercises  began.  The  body  of  children  sang  some 
beautiful  hymns,  then  there  were  several  spirited 
dialogues,  and  separate  pieces,  very  well  rendered 
indeed.  When  it  came  "bonnie  Prince  Charlie's" 
turn,  he  seemed  to  hesitate  a  moment.  Hanny 
thought  she  would  be  frightened  to  death  before 
all  the  people.  I  think  Charles  would  have  been 
a  year  ago. 

The  piano  began  the  soft  accompainment. 
After  the  first  few  notes  the  sweet  young  voice 
swelled  out  like  the  warble  of  a  bird.  People 
were  silent  with  surprise  and  admiration.  The 
fair,  boyish  face  and  slim  figure  looked  smaller 
there  on  the  platform.  The  face  had  a  youthful 


348    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

sweetness  that  nowadays  would  be  pronounced 
artistic. 

The  chorus  came  in  beautifully.  There  were 
three  verses  in  the  solo,  and  really,  I  do  not  know 
as  the  audience  were  to  blame  for  applauding. 
The  boy  had  to  come  out  and  sing  again,  this  time 
a  pretty  Christmas  carol  that  they  had  practised 
at  singing-school. 

When  the  exercises  were  finished  the  children 
.were  all  taken  down-stairs  and  they  looked  very 
pretty  flitting  about.  There  was  another  sur 
prise,  one  that  greatly  interested  the  little  girl. 
In  one  prettily  arranged  booth  were  two  curious 
small  beings  who  had  a  history.  They  had  al 
ready  been  in  Sunday-school  on  two  occasions. 
A  missionary  to  China,  seeing  these  little  girls 
about  to  be  sold,  had  rescued  them  by  buying 
them  himself.  He  had  brought  them  back  on  his 
return,  and  now  kindly  disposed  people  were 
making  up  a  sum  to  provide  them  with  a  home 
and  educate  them. 

Hanny  pressed  forward  holding  John's  hand 
tightly.  They  were  so  strange-looking.  The 
larger  and  older  one  was  not  at  all  pretty,  but  the 
younger  one  had  a  sweet  sort  of  shyness  and  was 
not  so  stolid.  Their  yellow-brown  skins,  oblique 
dark  eyes,  black  brows,  and  black  hair  done  up  in 
a  remarkable  fashion  with  some  long  pins,  and 
their  Chinese  attire  seemed  very  curious.  The 


SUNDRY  DISSIPATIONS  349 

gentleman  with  them  said  there  were  hundreds  of 
little  girls  sold  in  China,  and  that  women  bought 
them  for  future  wives  for  their  sons,  and  treated 
them  like  bond  slaves.  These  children's  feet  had 
not  been  cramped,  this  was  done  mainly  to  the 
higher  orders.  He  had  some  Chinese  shoes  worn 
by  grown  women,  and  they  were  such  short,  queer 
things,  like  some  of  the  pincushions  made  for  the 
Fair. 

We  didn't  suppose  then  the  Chinese  would 
come  and  live  with  us  and  have  a  Chinatown  in 
the  heart  of  the  city ;  do  our  laundry  work  and 
take  possession  of  our  kitchens;  that  the  blue 
shirts  and  queer  pointed  shoes  would  be  a  com 
mon  sight  in  our  streets.  So  the  Chinese  chil 
dren  were  a  curiosity.  Indeed,  several  years 
elapsed  before  Hanny  saw  another  inhabitant  of 
the  Flowery  Kingdom. 

"  Don't  you  want  to  put  something  in  the  box?" 
John  held  out  a  quarter  to  the  little  girl. 

Her  eyes  sparkled  with  pleasure.  Then  she 
shook  hands  with  the  small  Chinese  maidens,  and 
she  felt  almost  as  if  she  had  been  to  a  foreign 
country. 

If  Mrs.  Reed  had  been  present  she  would  have 
marched  Charles  home  in  short  order.  She  did 
not  believe  in  praising  children,  or  anybody  else  for 
that  matter.  Everybody,  in  her  opinion,  needed  a 
strict  hand.  She  hardly  approved  of  the  singing- 


350    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

school,  and  if  she  had  really  understood  that 
Charles  would  stand  out  alone  facing  the  audience, 
and  then  be  applauded  for  what  he  had  done,  and 
go  into  the  fair  and  be  praised  and  "treated," 
she  would  have  been  horrified  and  put  him  on  the 
strictest  sort  of  discipline  for  the  next  month. 

Charles  had  endeavored  to  persuade  his  mother 
to  go,  but  she  wanted  to  get  the  turkey  ready  for 
the  Christmas  dinner,  and  had  no  time  for  such 
trifling  things.  No  woman  had  who  did  her  duty 
by  her  house  and  her  family.  The  harder  and 
stonier  and  more  rigid  the  discipline  was,  the 
more  virtue  it  contained,  she  thought.  There 
was  no  especial  end  in  view  with  her;  it  was  the 
way  an  along  that  one  had  to  be  careful  about  and 
make  as  rough  as  possible. 

Mr.  Reed  was  secretly  proud  of  his  boy.  He 
had  a  misgiving  that  all  this  praise  and  attention 
was  not  a  good  thing,  but  the  boy  looked  so 
happy,  and  it  was  Christmas  Eve,  with  the  general 
feeling  of  joy  in  the  air.  He  was  curiously 
moved  himself.  Perhaps  happiness  wasn't  such 
a  weak  and  sinful  thing  after  all.  It  did  not  seem 
to  ruin  the  Underhill  faimly. 

But  he  said  to  Charles  as  they,  were  nearing 
home:  "I  wouldn't  make  much  fuss  about  the 
evening.  Your  mother  thinks  such  things  rather 
foolish." 

They  all  returned  in  a  crowd,  laugMng  and 


SUNDRY  DISSIPATIONS  351 

talking  and  saying  merry  good-nights.  Martha 
had  the  key  of  the  basement  and  they  trooped  in. 
Indeed,  Martha  was  so  much  one  of  the  family 
that  Dr.  Hoffman  paid  her  a  deal  of  respect. 

Father  was  tip-stairs  in  the  sitting-room  reading 
his  paper.  He  glanced  up  and  nodded. 

"Oh!"  cried  Hanny,  "where's  mother?  The 
house  looks  so  dark  and  dull  and  not  a  bit  Christ 
massy.  It  was  all  so  splendid,  and  oh,  Father! 
Charles  sung  like  an  angel,  didn't  he,  Margaret? 
They  made  him  sing  over  again,  and  he  looked 
really  beautiful.  And  there  were  two  Chinese 
girls  at  the  fair,  such  queer  little  things,"  she 
flushed,  for  the  word  recalled  Lily  Ludlow. 
"  Their  hands  were  as  soft  as  silk,  and  when  they 
talked — well,  you  can't  imagine  it!  It  sounded 
like  knocking  little  blocks  all  around  and  making 
the  corners  click.  But  where  is  mother?" 

"  Mother  is  going  to  stay  up  to  Steve's  all  night. 
They  wanted  her  to  help  them. " 

"  Oh,  dear!  It  won't  be  any  Christmas  without 
her,"  cried  the  little  girl  ruefully. 

"Oh,  she'll  be  home  in  the  morning,  likely." 

"  Hanny,  it  is  after  eleven,  and  you  must  go  to 
bed,"  said  Margaret. 

"I'd  just  like  to  stay  up  all  night,  once.  And 
can't  I  hang  up  my  stocking?" 

"  I'll  see  to  that.  Come,  dear.  And  boys,  go 
to  bed." 


Cbapter  nineteen. 

WHEN    CHRISTMAS    BELLS    WERE    RINGING. 

THE  boys  tried  to  be  merry  with  a  big  M  to  it, 
on  Christmas  morning.  But  something  was  lack 
ing.  The  stockings  hung  in  a  row,  and  there 
were  piles  of  gifts  below  them.  Books  and  books 
and  books !  They  were  all  too  old  for  playthings 
now.  Hanny  had  two  white  aprons  ruffled  all 
round,  and  a  pretty  pair  of  winter  boots.  They 
were  beginning  to  make  them  higher  in  the  ankle 
and  more  dainty,  and  stitching  them  in  colors. 
These  were  done  with  two  rows  of  white.  She 
had  a  set  of  the  Lucy  books  that  all  little  girls 
were  delighted  with.  Oh,  I  do  wonder  what  they 
would  have  said  to  Miss  Alcott  and  Susan  Cool- 
idge  and  Pansy!  But  they  were  very  happy  in 
what  they  had.  Jim  was  delighted  with  two  new 
volumes  of  Cooper.  Ben  had  a  splendid  pair  of 
high  boots,  and  three  new  shirts  Margaret  and  the 
little  girl  had  made  for  him. 

But,  oh,  dear !  what  was  it  all  without  mother ! 

They  missed  her  bright,  cheery  voice,  her  smile 

and  her  ample  person  that  had  a  warm  buoyant 

atmosphere.     They  would  have  been  glad  to  hear 

352 


CHRISTMAS  BELLS  WERE  RINGING      353 

her  scold  a  little  about  the  litter  of  gifts  around, 
and  their  lagging"  so  when  breakfast  was  ready. 

To  make  the  little  girl  laugh  her  father  told  her 
that  once  a  man  was  driving  along  a  country  road 
when  he  saw  seven  children  sitting  on  the  door 
step  crying,  and  seven  more  on  the  fence. 
Startled  at  so  much  grief  he  paused  to  inquire 
what  had  happened,  and  with  one  voice  they  an 
swered  : 

"  Our  mother's  gone  away  and  left  us  all  alone !" 

"There's  only  seven  of  us  with  Martha,  and  I 
am  not  crying,"  said  the  little  girl  spiritedly. 

Joe  dropped  in  just  as  they  were  seated  at  the 
table,  and  whispered  something  to  his  father  and 
Margaret.  He  seemed  very  merry,  and  Mr.  Un- 
derhill  gave  a  satisfied  nod.  He  brought  Mar 
garet  a  beautiful  cameo  brooch,  which  was  con 
sidered  a  fine  thing  then,  and  put  a  pretty  garnet 
ring  on  Hanny's  finger. 

Hanny  guessed  what  the  word  had  been. 
Mother  was  going  to  bring  Steve  and  Dolly  down 
to  dinner.  Dolly  had  changed  her  mind,  for  she 
had  said  she  could  not  come.  That  was  what  they 
were  smiling  about. 

At  ten  Stephen  brought  mother  down  in  the 
sleigh,  and  they  were  more  mysterious  than  ever. 

Peggy  and  the  little  girl  must  bundle  up  and  go 
back  with  him,    for  he  had   such   a  wonderful 
Christmas  present  to  show  them. 
83 


354    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"  But  why  didn't  you  bring  Dolly  and  stay  to 
dinner?  And  oh,  Mother!  Christmas  morning 
wasn't  splendid  at  all  without  you !"  said  the  little 
girl,  clinging  to  her. 

Mrs.  Underhill  stooped  and  kissed  her  and  said 
in  a  full,  tremulous  sort  of  voice : 

"  Run  and  get  your  hood,  dear,  and  don't  keep 
Stephen  waiting. " 

The  horses  tossed  their  heads  and  whinnied  as 
if  they  too,  said,  "  Don't  keep  us  waiting. "  The 
sun  was  shining  and  all  the  air  seemed  infused 
with  joy,  though  it  was  a  sharp  winter  day.  The 
weather  knew  its  business  fifty  years  ago  and 
didn't  sandwich  whiffs  of  spring  between  snow 
banks.  And  the  children  were  blowing  on  tin  and 
wooden  horns,  and  wishing  everybody  Merry 
Christmas  as  they  ran  around  with  the  reddest 
of  cheeks. 

Steve  took  Hanny  on  his  lap.  What  did  make 
him  so  laughing  and  mysterious?  He  insisted 
that  Hanny  should  guess,  and  then  kept  saying, 
"Oh,  you're  cold,  cold,  cold  as  an  icehouse!  You 
should  have  put  on  your  guessing  cap,"  and  the 
little  girl  felt  quite  teased. 

They  stopped  down-stairs  to  get  good  and  warm 
and  take  off  their  wraps.  Then  Stephen  led  them 
up  to  the  front  room.  It  was  a  kind  of  library 
and  sitting-room,  but  no  one  was  there.  In  the 
window  stood  a  beautiful  vase  of  flowers.  Hanny 


CHRISTMAS  BELLS  WERE  RINGING      355 

ran  Over  to  that.  Roses  at  Christmastide  were 
rare  indeed.  "  Here,"  said  Stephen,  catching  her 
arm  gently. 

She  turned  to  the  opposite  corner.  There  was 
an  old-fashioned  mahogany  cradle,  black  with  age, 
and  polished  until  it  shone  like  glass.  It  was 
lined  overhead  with  soft  light- blue  silk,  and  had 
lying  across  it  a  satin  coverlet  that  had  grown 
creamy  with  age,  full  of  embroidered  flowers  dull 
and  soft  with  their  many  years  of  bloom. 

On  the  pillow  lay  her  brother's  Christmas  gift 
that  had  come  while  the  bells  were  still  ringing  out 
their  message  first  heard  on  the  plains  of  Judea. 

"Oh!"  with  a  soft,  wondering  cry.  She  knelt 
beside  the  cradle  that  had  come  from  Holland  a 
century  and  a  half  ago,  and  held  many  a  Beek- 
man  baby.  A  strange  little  face  with  a  tinge  of 
redness  in  it,  a  round  broad  forehead  with  a  misti 
ness  of  golden  fuzz,  a  pretty  dimpled  chin  and  a 
mouth  almost  as  round  as  a  cherry.  Just  at  that 
instant  he  opened  the  bluest  of  eyes,  stared  at 
Hanny  with  a  grave  aspect,  tried  to  put  his  fist 
into  his  mouth  and  with  a  soft  little  sound  dropped 
to  sleep  again. 

A  wordless  sense  of  delight  and  mystery  stole 
over  the  little  girl.  She  seemed  lifted  up  to 
Heaven's  very  gates.  She  reached  out  her  hand 
and  touched  the  little  velvet  fist,  not  much  larger 
than  her  doll's,  but  oh,  it  had  the  exquisite  in- 


356    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

spiration  of  life  and  she  felt  the  wonderful  thrill 
to  her  very  heart.  Something  given  to  them  all 
that  could  love  back  when  its  time  of  loving  came, 
when  it  knew  of  the  fond  hearts  awaiting  the 
sweetness  of  affection. 

"That's  my  little  boy,"  said  Stephen,  with  the 
great  pride  and  joy  of  fatherhood.  "  Dolly's  and 
all  of  ours.  Isn't  it  a  Christmas  worth  having?" 

"Oh!"  she  said  again  with  a  wordless  delight 
in  her  heart,  while  her  eyes  were  filled  with  tears, 
so  deeply  had  the  consciousness  moved  her. 
There  was  a  sort  of  poetical  pathos  in  the  little 
girl,  sacred  to  love.  She  had  never  known  of  any 
babies  in  the  family  save  Cousin  Retty's,  and  that 
had  not  appealed  with  this  delicious  nearness. 

Stephen  bent  over  and  kissed  her.  Margaret 
came  to  look  at  the  baby. 

"He's  a  fine  fellow!"  said  the  new  father. 
"We  wanted  to  surprise  you,"  looking  at  Hanny 
and  smiling.  "  We  made  Joe  promise  not  to  tell 
you.  And  now  you  are  all  aunts  and  uncles,  and 
we  have  a  grandmother  of  our  very  own." 

"Oh!"  This  time  Hanny  laughed  softly. 
There  were  no  words  expressive  enough. 

"  And  now  you  will  have  to  knit  him  some  little 
boots,  and  save  your  money  to  buy  him  Christmas 
gifts.  And  what's  that  new  work — crochet  him  a 
cap.  Dear  me!  how  hard  you  will  have  to 
work." 


CHRISTMAS  BELLS  WERE  RINGING     357 

"There  were  such  lovely  little  boots  at  the 
Epiphany  Fair.  If  I  only  had  known!  But  I'm 
quite  sure  I  can  learn  to  make  them ;"  her  eyes 
lighting  with  anticipation.  "  Oh,  when  will  he  be 
big  enough  to  hold?" 

"  In  a  month  or  so.  You  will  have  to  come  up 
on  Saturdays  and  take  care  of  him. " 

"  Can  I?    That  will  be  just  splendid." 

He  was  silent.  He  could  not  tease  the  little 
girl  in  the  sacredness  of  her  new,  all-pervading 
love. 

The  nurse  entered.  She  had  a  soft  white  ker 
chief  pinned  about  her  shoulders,  and  side  puffs 
of  hair  done  over  little  combs  She  nodded  to 
Margaret  and  said  "  the  baby  was  a  very  fine  child, 
and  that  Mrs.  Underhill  was  sleeping  restfully. 
They  had  been  so  glad  to  have  Mr.  Underbill's 
mother. "  Then  she  patted  the  blanket  over  the 
baby,  and  said  "  it  had  been  worked  for  his  great, 
great  grandmother,  and  they  put  it  over  every 
Beekman  baby  for  good  luck. " 

Margaret  declared  they  must  return.  Mother 
was  tired,  and  the  Archers  were  coming  up  to 
dinner  after  church. 

"Could  I  kiss  it  just  once?"  asked  Hanny 
timidly. 

"  Oh,  yes. "  The  nurse  smiled  and  turned  down 
the  blanket,  and  the  baby  opened  his  eyes. 

Hanny  felt  that  in  some  mysterious  manner  he 


3$8    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

knew  she  loved  him.  Her  lips  touched  the  soft 
little  cheek,  the  tiny  hands. 

"  He's  very  good  now,"  said  the  nurse ;  "  but  he 
can  cry  tremendously.  He  has  strong  lungs. " 

Stephen  took  them  back  and  then  went  down 
to  Father  Beekman's.  There  was  so  much  to  do, 
the  little  girl  and  the  big  girl  were  both  busy 
enough,  helping  mother.  The  boys  and  her  father 
had  gone  out,  but  they  had  all  heard  the  wonder 
ful  tidings. 

Hanny  ran  back  and  forth  waiting  on  Martha 
and  carrying  dishes  to  the  table,  so  there  would 
be  no  flurry  at  the  last. 

"Hello,  Aunt  Hanny!"  laughed  Jim,  bouncing 
in  with  the  reddest  of  cheeks.  "  You'll  have  to 
grow  fast  now  to  keep  up  with  your  dignity. 
Well,  is  he  Beekman  Dutch  or  Underhill  Eng 
lish?" 

"He's  just  lovely.  His  eyes  are  blue  as  the 
sky." 

"Hurrah  for  Steve!  Well,  that  was  a  Christ 
mas!" 

Her  father  was  coming  with  the  two  cousins, 
and  she  ran  up-stairs  to  wish  them  Merry  Christ 
mas  and  tell  her  father  what  she  thought  of  the 
baby.  The  baby  and  the  Christmas  sermon  and 
the  rheumatism  and  cold  weather  seemed  to  get 
jumbled  all  together,  and  for  a  little  while  every 
body  talked.  Then  John  and  Joe  made  their  ap- 


CHRISTMAS  BELLS  WERE  RINGING     359 

pearance,  and  Martha  rang  the  bell,  though  the 
savory  odors  announced  that  all  was  ready. 

They  had  a  very  delightful  dinner.  Mrs.  Un 
derbill  had  a  pretty  new  consequence  about  her, 
and  was  not  a  bit  teased  by  being  called  grand 
mother.  Dolly's  advent  into  the  family  had  been 
a  source  of  delight,  for  she  fraternized  so  cordially 
with  every  member.  And  of  late  she  and  Mother 
Underhill  had  been  tenderly  intimate,  for  Mrs. 
Beekman  was  kept  much  at  home  by  her  hus 
band's  failing  health. 

When  they  had  lingered  over  the  mince  pies 
which  certainly  were  delicious,  and  finished  their 
coffee,  they  went  upstairs  to  chat  around  the  fire. 
After  the  dishes  were  dried  Hanny  ran  into  the 
Deans'  to  interchange  a  little  Christmas  talk  and 
tell  the  girls  about  Stephen's  baby.  She  was  so  ex 
cited  that  all  other  gifts  seemed  of  little  moment. 

Daisy  Jasper  had  been  confined  to  the  house  for 
a  week  with  a  severe  cold. 

"I  began  to  think  you  had  forgotten  me,"  she 
said,  as  Hanny  entered  the  beautiful  parlor. 
"  And  Doctor  Joe  said  you  had  something  special 
to  tell  me.  Oh,  what  is  it?"  for  the  little  girl's 
face  was  still  in  a  glow  of  excitement. 

"  I  can  never  have  any  nieces  or  nephews  be 
cause  there  is  only  one  of  me,"  said  Daisy,  with  a 
sad  little  smile.  "  I  almost  envy  you.  If  I  could 
have  one  of  your  brothers  out  of  them  all  I  should 


360    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

choose  Dr.  Joe.  He  is  so  tender  and  sweet  and 
patient.  He  used  to  take  me  in  his  arms  and  let 
me  cry  when  crying  wasn't  good  for  me  either. 
I  was  so  miserable  and  full  of  pain,  and  he  always 
understood. " 

Hanny  was  so  moved  by  pity  for  Daisy  that  she 
felt  almost  as  if  she  could  give  him  away — she  had 
so  much.  Not  quite,  however,  for  he  was  very 
dear  to  her.  And  when  she  looked  into  Daisy's 
lovely  face  and  remembered  her  beautiful  name 
and  glanced  at  the  elegant  surroundings,  it  seemed 
strange  there  should  be  anything  to  wish  for. 
But  health  outweighed  all. 

Daisy  was  delighted  with  the  Christmas  Eve 
anniversary,  the  singing  of  "bonnie  Prince 
Charlie,"  the  fair,  and  was  wonderfully  interested 
in  the  little  Chinese  girls.  She  meant  to  send 
some  money  toward  their  education. 

Mr.  Bradbury  was  to  give  a  concert  in  February 
with  the  best  child  singers  of  the  different  schools. 
Charles  was  to  take  part,  his  father  had  promised 
him  that  indulgence. 

"  I  hope  I  shall  get  strong  enough  to  go,"  began 
Daisy  wistfully.  "  It  is  the  sitting  up  straight  that 
tires  my  back,  but  last  year  it  was  so  much  worse. 
Doctor  Joe  says  I  shall  get  well  and  be  almost  like 
other  girls.  See  how  much  I  have  gone  to  school. 
It  is  so  splendid  to  learn  for  your  own  very  self. 
You  don't  feel  so  helpless." 


CHRISTMAS  BELLS  WERE  RINGING      361 

Daisy's  Christmas  had  "been  a  beautiful  Geneva 
watch.  We  had  not  gone  to  watchmaking  then 
and  had  to  depend  on  our  neighbors  over  the 
water  for  many  choice  articles.  And  a  watch  was 
a  rare  thing  for  a  little  girl  to  possess. 

When  she  went  home  Hanny  had  to  get  out  her 
pretty  new  work  and  show  the  visitors.  She  had 
nearly  four  yards  of  lovely  blue  edging  she  was 
making  for  Margaret,  but  she  had  not  hinted  at 
its  destination. 

"Why,"  exclaimed  Aunt  Nancy,  "I've  seen 
mittens  knit  with  a  hook  something  like  that. 
Not  open  work  and  fancy,  but  all  tight  and  out  of 
good  stout  yarn.  They're  very  lasting. " 

"  I  do  believe  they're  like  what  Uncle  David 
makes,"  said  John.  "Don't  you  remember,  he 
used  to  give  us  a  pair  now  and  then?" 

"  Well,  I  declare,  there's  nothing  new  under  the 
sun!"  laughed  Aunt  Patience. 

Hanny  was  quite  sure  there  could  not  be  any 
connection  between  her  delicate  lace  and  stout 
yarn  mittens,  and  she  meant  to  ask  Uncle  David 
the  next  time  they  made  a  visit.  Both  ladies 
praised  her  a  good  deal,  especially  when  they 
heard  of  the  shirts  she  had  been  making  with 
Margaret. 

"It  used  to  be  a  great  thing,"  said  Aunt 
Patience.  "  When  I  was  six  years  old  I  had  knit 
a  pair  of  stockings  by  myself,  and  when  I  was 


362    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

eight  I  had  made  my  father  a  shirt.  All  the 
gussets  were  stitched,  just  as  you  do  a  bosom. 
My,  what  a  sight  of  fine  work  there  was  then!" 

"I'll  tell  you  something  I  read  the  other  day  in 
a  queer  old  book  I  picked  up  down  at  the  office," 
began  Ben.  "When  little  Prince  Edward  was 
two  years  old,  the  Princess  Elizabeth  who  was 
afterward  queen  made  him  a  shirt  or  smock,  as  it 
was  called,  with  drawn  work  and  embroidery. 
And  she  was  only  six. " 

"Children  have  more  lessons  to  study  now," 
said  Mrs.  Underbill,  half  in  apology.  "And 
Hanny  has  done  some  drawn  work  for  me,  and 
embroidered  some  aprons." 

"  And  Queen  Elizabeth  spent  enough  time  later 
on  with  gay  gallants,"  remarked  Aunt  Nancy. 
"  So  I  do  not  know  as  her  early  industry  held 
out." 

"I'd  rather  have  had  her  splendid  reign  than  to 
have  made  shirts  for  an  army,"  declared  Ben. 

"Well,  we  all  have  our  duties  in  this  world," 
sighed  Aunt  Patience.  "  I  learned  to  make  shirts, 
but  I  never  had  a  husband  or  boys  to  make  them 
for." 

They  all  laughed  at  that.  But  what  would  a 
little  girl  say  now  if  she  had  to  stitch  down  the 
middle  of  a  shirt  bosom,  following  a  drawn  thread, 
and  taking  up  only  two  threads  at  every  stitch? 

There  certainly  was  great  need  of  Elias  Howe. 


CHRISTMAS  BELLS  WERE  RINGING      363 

The  visitors  declared  they  must  get  home  by 
dark.  There  was  the  poor  cat,  and  the  fires  must 
need  looking  after.  Mrs.  Underhill  was  fain  to 
keep  them  to  tea,  but  instead  packed  them  up  a 
basket  of  cold  turkey  and  some  delicious  boiled 
ham,  a  dozen  or  two  crullers,  and  a  nice  mince  pie. 
John  was  to  see  the  old  ladies  home. 

When  they  were  gone  Hanny  went  up  to  the 
"spare"  room,  for  in  one  drawer  of  the  best 
bureau  she  had  kept  her  beautiful  doll,  which  had 
never  been  permanently  named.  She  opened  it 
and  kneeling  down  raised  the  napkin  that  covered 
her,  as  one  tucks  in  a  little  child. 

Yes,  she  was  lovely,  really  prettier  than  Ste 
phen's  baby,  she  felt,  though  she  would  not  say 
it.  But  when  you  came  to  kiss  on  the  cold  wax — 
ah,  that  was  the  test.  And  Stephen's  baby 
would  grow  and  walk  and  talk,  and  have  cunning 
little  teeth  and  curly  hair,  maybe.  She  did  so 
love  curly  hair. 

"  Dolly,"  she  began  gravely,  "  I  am  going  to  put 
you  away.  I  shall  be  eleven  next  May,  and  though 
I  shall  always  be  father's  little  girl,  I  shall  be 
growing  up  and  too  old  to  play  with  dolls.  Then 
I  shall  have  so  much  to  do.  And  I  should  love 
the  real  live  baby  best.  That  would  hurt  your 
feelings.  Sometime  there  may  be  another  little 
girl  who  will  be  as  glad  to  have  you  come  on 
Christmas  Day  as  I  was.  I  shall  love  you  just  the 


364    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

same,  but  you  have  a  different  kind  of  love  for 
something  that  is  human  and  can  put  truly  arms 
around  your  neck  and  kiss  you.  When  girls  are 
little  they  don't  mind  the  difference  so  much. 
You  won't  feel  real  lonesome,  for  dolls  don't. 
We  only  make  believe  they  do.  And  now  I  shall 
not  make  believe  any  more,  because  I  am  getting 
to  know  all  about  real  things.  There  are  so  many 
real  and  strange  things  in  the  world  that  are  lovely 
to  think  about,  and  I  seem  to  have  learned  so 
much  to-day.  I  can't  feel  quite  as  I  did  yester 
day." 

She  put  on  the  wadded  satin  cloak  and  the 
dainty  hood  and  laid  it  back  in  the  box.  There 
was  room  for  the  muff  and  the  travelling  shawl. 
She  put  the  cover  on  softly.  She  folded  the 
pretty  garments  and  packed  them  in  the  corner, 
and  spread  the  towel  over  them  all. 

There  was  no  morbid  feeling  of  sacrifice  or 
sense  of  loss.  A  great  change  had  come  over 
her,  a  new  human  affection  had  entered  her 
soul.  She  had  a  consciousness  that  could  not  be 
put  into  words.  She  had  outgrown  her  doll. 

Margaret  was  going  to  an  oratorio  with  Dr. 
Hoffman.  The  boys  were  to  attend  the  Christmas 
celebration  at  Allen  Street  church  with  the  Deans. 
Hanny  had  not  cared  to  go.  Her  mother  kept 
watching  her  with  a  curious  feeling  as  if  she  sa\v 
or  suspected  some  change  in  her. 


CHRISTMAS  BELLS  WERE  RINGING      365 

The  room  settled  to  quiet.  The  fire  burned 
drowsily.  Mrs.  Underbill  took  the  big  rocking- 
chair  at  one  side,  and  Hanny  came  and  settled 
herself  on  a  footstool,  leaning  her  arms  on  her 
mother's  knee. 

"  I  shall  not  hang  up  my  stocking  next  Christ 
mas,"  she  said,  in  a  soft,  slow  tone.  "It  is  very 
nice  when  you  believe  in  it,  and  real  fun  afterward 
when  you  don't  believe  in  it  but  like  it;  when  you 
seem  little  to  yourself." 

"You  do  grow  out  of  it,"  replied  her  mother; 
but  at  heart  she  was  half-sorry.  "  You  get  just 
the  same  things.  At  least  you  get  suitable 
things. " 

Was  she  glad  to  have  them  all  growing  up? 

"Dear  me,  there's  no  little  children,"  she  con 
tinued,  with  a  sigh.  "  You'll  be  eleven  next  May, 
Hanny." 

"But  there's  Stephen's  lovely  little  baby. 
Doesn't  it  seem  just  as  if  God  had  sent  him  at  the 
right  time,  when  we  were  all  growing  big?" 

She  took  the  little  girl's  hands  in  hers  and  said 
dreamily,  "  You  were  sent  that  way,  at  the  right 
time.  I  was  so  glad  to  have  you.  I  can  recall  it 
so  plainly.  Old  Mother  Tappan  was  there.  I 
was  so  afraid  you'd  be  a  boy,  and  we  had  boys 
enough.  And  she  said,  'Oh,  what  a  nice  little 
girl.  You'll  be  glad  enough,  Mrs.  Underbill.' 
And  so  I  was." 

Y 


366    A  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 

"  As  glad  as  Stephen?"  said  Hanny,  with  shin- 
ing  eyes. 

"Yes,  dear.  Even  if  it  wasn't  Christmas. 
You  were  a  welcome  little  May  flower. " 

In  Bethlehem  of  Judea  the  other  child  had  been 
born  with  the  mighty  significance  of  a  great  gift 
to  the  world,  a  gift  that  had  made  Christmas  pos 
sible  for  all  time  to  come.  Just  how  the  world 
was  redeemed  no  little  girl  of  ten  or  so  could  un 
derstand.  But  it  was  redeemed  because  the  little 
child  of  Bethlehem  bore  the  sins  of  the  whole 
world  in  His  manhood.  Ah,  no  wonder  they 
wrote  under  the  picture  of  His  mother,  when  He 
was  gone,  "Mater  Dolor  osa."  But  the  years  of 
His  childhood  must  have  been  sweet  to  remember. 
"The  young  child  and  His  mother."  The  wise 
men  coming  with  their  gifts.  The  sweet  song 
going  around  the  world,  the  great  love. 

Her  mother's  hands  relaxed  from  their  clasp. 
She  was  very  tired  and  had  fallen  asleep.  Her 
father  folded  his  paper  and  looked  over  at  her 
wistfully.  Hanny  came  and  dropped  softly  on  his 
knee  and  his  strong,  tender  arms  enclosed  her. 

Was  there  any  child  quite  like  the  little  girl? 
They  had  been  so  proud  and  happy  over  Stephen, 
so  delighted  with  Margaret.  He  had  loved  them 
all,  and  they  were  a  nice  household  of  children. 
But  they  were  growing  up  and  going  their  ways. 
They  would  be  making  new  homes.  Ah,  it  would 


CHRISTMAS  BELLS  WERE  RINGING      367 

be  many  a  long  year  before  the  little  girl  would 
think  of  such  a  thing.  They  would  keep  her  snug 
and  safe,  "to  have  and  to  hold,"  and  he  smiled  to 
himself  at  the  literal  rendering. 

The  chime  of  the  clock  roused  Mrs.  Underhill. 
It  was  Hanny's  bedtime,  and  she  had  been  so 
busy  all  day,  so  full  of  excitement,  too,  that  her 
cheeks  had  bloomed  with  roses.  She  glanced 
across.  The  fair  flaxen  head  was  on  the  shoulder 
half  hidden  by  the  protecting  arm.  The  other 
head,  showing  many  silver  threads  now,  drooped 
over  a  little.  The  picture  brought  a  mist  to  her 
eyes,  and  there  was  a  half  sob  in  her  throat.  The 
same  thought  came  into  her  mind.  She  would  be 
their  "  little  girl"  when  the  other  one  had  gone  to 
her  new  home. 

She  could  not  disturb  them.  It  was  "good  will 
and  peace"  everywhere. 


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